Awfully Wedded
by VickytoriaGreengrass
Summary: Engaged to Draco Malfoy, what happens when Hermione Granger wakes up in the arms of Blaise Zabini with no memory of how she got there? The Imperius Curse makes you do the worst of things. Hermione is about to learn this whether she likes it or not. DM/HG (Ignores HBP and DH)
1. Chapter 1

**IMPORTANT Author's Note: **Hey there, and welcome to Awfully Wedded… again. This is a fic I started years ago under the pen name of XxXVickyBXxX, before giving up on it and passing it on to the writer 'alosercanwin' (who has been noted that I'm taking it up again). Since then, however, the fic has kind of been in limbo and when I came across it the other day, I knew I just _had_ to continue it again. So, I guess you could say that this is like, I dunno, the _third_ attempt? My second at least.

Anywho, whether you're new or old to it, I really hope you enjoy this fic that I will (hopefully and eventually) complete. I'm not going to lie, updates may be a bit irregular. I'm in Uni now and way too busy for my own good. However, as there are already 12 Chapters, I'm hoping that will help. I'll probably update every other week, maybe once a week – not sure yet haven't decided. But, I beg you, _please_ be patient!

I must also state that I will be tweaking the chapters slightly; this will mainly be mistakes, but in some chapters I make edit things to make it flow better, or because I feel (personally) that it doesn't fit in to where this story is going anymore. All in all, though, I can't see it changing too much.

Well, I think that's about it for now. Happy reading!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything.

* * *

If someone had told Hermione Jean Granger thirteen years ago, when she was first starting Hogwarts, that by the time she was twenty-four she would be engaged to Draco Malfoy, then the eleven year old girl would have been highly affronted. Not only would the idea have been absurd for the Gryffindor, but, for Hermione Granger at that age, it would have also been an insult to her person and intelligence.

After all, she was Hermione Granger and to get mixed up with the likes of a Malfoy – and not just any Malfoy, but _Draco _Malfoy – would cause one to think that she was incredibly stupid. And everyone knew that Hermione Granger was anything _but_ stupid.

So how come, at the mere age of twenty-four, did she find herself in Draco Malfoy's bed, with his engagement ring on her left finger?

Well, according to her three best friends , Ron, Harry and Ginny, it was a simple case of her leaving her senses. Senses which had seemingly not returned – though she could care less about them because, if they were to return, she would probably find herself in the arms of another man. This was something she didn't want happening because, even though Ron had a hard time of believing it, she was actually happy with the Ferret.

In a way, Hermione still couldn't believe that she and Draco were still together after three and half years. When her relationship with the proud Pureblood had started she had honestly believed it to be a simple fling; she had even told Ron, who had been furious at her for agreeing to date him, that they would probably be over in a month or two. Glancing down at her ring, Hermione doubted that month-or-two would _ever_ come.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Hermione whispered, smiling delicately, as she turned to face the sleeping man next to her. Hermione's grin widened even more so as she took in Draco's profile. Merlin, he looked innocent when he was sleeping.

_Shame he isn't like that all the time though_, she thought. Slowly, hoping not to disturb the slumbering Dragon, she lifted her free arm up – the other one was currently crushed under Draco's sleeping form – and gently brushed a strand of Draco's flaxen hair out of his eyes. For a second she thought she was successful in keeping him undisturbed, but was quickly proved wrong when Draco's eyes snapped open, and he snatched for her hand, and curled his fingers around her wrist.

Hermione, blushing as bright as Ron's hair, slowly let her eyes meet those of her fiancé before they trailed down to his lips. She flared as she saw he was smirking – _nothing new on that front then_ – but was quickly distracted as Draco drew her closer to his body, leaning in for the kill. Hermione sniffed in annoyance – she had lost their little game _again_ – and turned her head away so Draco's lips landed on her cheek.

"Good morning to you too," he chuckled, as he shifted his body slightly and freed Hermione's arm. "Seems like someone's woken up on the wrong side of bed this morning." Sitting up slightly, he looked around before raising an eyebrow. His smirk grew into an almost predatory smile. "In fact, by the looks of it, I think that both of us have."

Hermione, still glaring at her fiancé, felt her cheeks burn even darker. "Oh hush," she grumbled, hitting him lightly on the chest. All it did was cause Draco to laugh that bit more, and for Hermione to groan even louder. "For once, Draco, can't you just let me play with your hair for a bit? I'm sick and tired of you waking up, just after I've brushed it out of your face. Why can't you just let me win? You know pretend to be asleep?"

She felt Draco press a gentle kiss to her neck, grinning. "Where's the fun in that, Granger?" He whispered the rhetorical into her ear. "I can't let you win _all_ the time, can I?" He hovered over her, his forehead pressed against hers. "People will begin to think that Draco Malfoy has gone –" a curl of the mouth and nose, "– _soft_."

Hermione grinned up at him, a knowing look in her eyes. Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, and he growled at her to keep quiet. Hermione took no heed to his silent warning.

"But Draco, you've already gone soft," The man in question quickly snapped that he hadn't done anything of the kind. Hermione, ignoring him, continued. "You've been that way ever since we became friends – four years ago."

Draco scoffed at Hermione's statement and shook his head. "We were never friend's Granger," he stated. "We were just mere acquaintances who decided to skip the friendship stage and go onto the shagging part, falling in love on the way."

Once again Draco found himself rubbing his chest; at this rate the bruises would be permanent. "Oh do be quiet, Malfoy," Hermione said, smirking up at him. "You and I both know very well that we were friends before we started dating. When have _you_ known me to lie?"

"Fifth year," Draco said immediately. "When Umbridge was in charge of Hogwarts – you lied to her then."

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Okay, that was one time – and nearly ten years ago." She smiled up at him. "I would like a more recent time, and _not_ something that happened in the nineties."

Hermione, thinking that she had caught Draco out, smiled triumphantly back at him. By the looks of it, she had just got her fiancé well and truly –

"When you and I first started dating," Draco interrupted her, grinning just like she. "You kept fibbing to Potter and Weasley about who your new boyfriend was; every time they asked you either changed the subject, or gave them some really random names." He let out a snort and muttered "Atticus Finch" under his breath, before he chuckled even more.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "It's not my fault that I said a character from 'To Kill a Mockingbird'," Hermione said, her cheeks growing pink yet again. "It was the first name that came to my head; after all, I was reading it at the time." She frowned even more. "How was I supposed to know that Ginny and Harry had both read the book? Neither of them are the reading type after all."

Draco, still laughing slightly, just shook his head before lifting himself off of Hermione and sitting up in their bed. He ran a hand through his mussed up hair (something that only _he_ was allowed to do, much to Hermione's annoyance) and yawned. Hermione's breath caught in her throat as he stretched and his back muscles rippled. If he didn't get out of her sight soon, then she would be very tempted to make last night's escapade look innocent.

As Hermione watched Draco enter the bathroom – a shower was in order first, as per usual with the Ferret – she found herself drifting back to the past and how she and Draco came to be. Even though Draco wouldn't admit it, it was true when Hermione had said that they had been friends with each other before they had become a couple. Sure, it had only been six months' worth of friendship, but those six months were moments in time which Hermione would never regret. After all, it had been in this space of half a year that she had been able to see what Draco Malfoy was truly like.

Sure he had still been a git, but the malicious side of him had gone to be replaced by a more humorous one. Back then, when their friendship – sorry, _acquaintance_ – had first started he still had his little digs at her, though his tone told her that Draco meant no harm, and not once had he ever uttered the word 'Mudblood'. In the space of two years from their graduation to their meeting again, Hermione had learnt that Draco had done a lot of growing up.

Admittedly, Hermione had been sceptical of Draco at first, and incredibly unsure about his new-found nature for two reasons. Not only was Draco's Hogwarts behaviour to blame, but also the situations which surrounded the beginnings of their companionship too. She had just come out of a horrible ordeal concerning another Slytherin, so she had found it hard to get involved with another one so soon afterwards.

Despite the fact that she was happy when she and Draco became friends, the reason surrounding the beginning of their relationship was something that she'd rather not talk about. The same went for Draco too, due to the fact that he had suffered at the hands of the very same Slytherin.

Another reason that neither of them liked to talk or think about it, was all down to the fact that Hermione was a girl who looked to the future and rarely – if ever – the past. Hermione found that if she looked to the past she would belittle herself and want to correct past mistakes – especially of the ones that concerned _him_ – which she was unable to do. However, as her fiancé had told her countless of times, if she were to look to the future Hermione was able to see all her hopes and dreams waiting for her. If she looked to the future, then she would be able to see her future with her friends, family and Draco.

Hermione's thoughts trailed off suddenly as Draco opened the bathroom door, steam billowing around him, and stepped out with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Hermione gave him an appreciative look up and down, causing Draco to smirk, yet again , before hopping out of their bed herself, and entering the room that Draco had just emerged from. She turned round, blew her fiancé a kiss, and closed the door in his face.

"I'll see you when you're out of the shower then?" Draco hollered, as he dropped his towel and got ready for the day ahead. The last thing he heard, before Hermione turned on the shower, was his fiancé's tinkling laughter.

Merlin, did he love than girl.

/

"So what are you planning to do with your day off, then?" Draco asked forty minutes later, as Hermione sat down at the table across from him. A piece of toast lingered next to his mouth.

Hermione, who had just been reaching for a slice of toast herself, paused and looked up into the dark-grey eyes of her fiancé. At first she thought that his question suggested that he knew something, but one glance told her that Draco was just genuinely interested. Obviously she had been able to keep this secret hidden extremely well.

_Shall I tell him_? Hermione thought, as she began to spread marmalade over her toast. _Or shall I wait_? _I really don't want to get his hopes up_. Her indecisiveness had caused Hermione to forget to reply to Draco, who was now looking at her expectantly – and suspiciously.

"Hermione?" Draco called her name, and Hermione quickly snapped out of her thoughts. She looked up at Draco again. "What are you doing today?"

_I'll tell him once I find out for sure, myself_, Hermione finally decided to keep the (probable) news a surprise. "Oh nothing much," Hermione told him, with shrug. "I'll probably go and catch up with Ginny, considering I haven't seen her since she had James, and go shopping in London." She looked around their flat. "It's probably about time I added something of my own to this place; everything here currently belongs to you."

Draco, mouth full of buttered toast, merely nodded in agreement. "Sure," he finally said, after swallowing. He looked around their dining room, "I think it will do the house good if it had a woman's touch about it. It'll make the house look more homely; give off the message that a family's about to start here."

Whilst Draco continued on with his speech about what Hermione could possibly do about the house, the girl in question felt her cheeks grow warm. He had just said 'family', whether he had meant it in an indicative way or not, which gave Hermione the hint that he wanted children – with her. A smile tugged at her lips, and Hermione almost gave in to the urge of telling Draco of where she was truly going today. However, due to the fact that it wasn't confirmed yet, she kept her excitement to herself. Draco could wait another couple of hours, couldn't he?

"So, what do you think?" Draco finally asked, sipping his Pumpkin juice. "Do you like the idea of painting the kitchen spring green?"

Hermione, who had not heard a word of what the Slytherin had just said, simply smiled and nodded her head. "It sounds wonderful, Draco," she told him. "I'll get on it straight away." Simultaneously the couple stood up, and began to tidy up the table; it had become a sort of ritual for them to do it at the same time.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, everything cleared up and put away, found Hermione and Draco standing outside their house, ready to go their separate ways. Draco was off to work, whilst Hermione was off to Ginny's – even though in reality she was off to Saint Mungo's. They were just saying goodbye to each other – _again_ – and making sure that all the wards were up.

"I'll see you about six, alright, love?" Draco murmured against Hermione's lips, who gave a distant murmur of consent. The girl in question was busily distracted by sorting out his crooked tie. "Do you want me to get something for dinner tonight, or do you want me to cook?"

Hermione shook her head on both suggestions, before returning Draco's kiss. "No, it's alright Draco, I'll cook. Everyone knows that I need to get my cooking skills up to scratch," Her eyes reached his. "Besides, I want to make tonight extremely special." Her tone, full of suggestions, told Draco all he needed to know.

"Right then," he drawled, tugging at his collar, causing it to loosen slightly. "I'll see you tonight." He gave one more lingering kiss on Hermione's lips – a kiss she replied readily to – before pulling away from her, and giving her a tight hug. Finally they parted and went their separate ways; Hermione went left, whilst Draco went right. The smiles on each half of the couple didn't slip from either of their faces as one left for a hospital, and the other work.

"Shame I'm about to wipe those grins off of them," a cold voice hissed, as a figure stepped out of the alleyway across from the house, and followed Hermione with his eyes until she rounded the corner. His lips curled into a sneer of unrighteous jealousy. "It's a shame that I'm not about to let her go this time," the figure continued to mutter to himself, eyes darting to Draco's walking figure. The beetle-black eyes narrowed even more as they studied Malfoy's profile, and a sneer curled his lips. "She's mine, and mine alone, Malfoy; she'll _never_ belong to you – especially when _I'm_ around. I lost her once, but I am _not_ about to loose her again."

After four years of scheming, Blaise Zabini was finally back. He was finally back and ready to take what he believed was _his_ and _his_ alone. Hermione Granger was going to rue the day that she didn't give him a second chance.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, what did you think? This chapter is pretty much the same as the original, though with a few adjustments.

I should also add that in this Blaise Zabini originally had dark hair, pale skin and blue eyes. I know he isn't like that in the books, but for some reason this was just how I imagined him when I first began to write this. However, I have now altered his appearance so that it fits in with his actual physical description.

Anywho, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter (again, if you're reading it for the third time), and please let me know your thoughts with a review.

Thanks!

VickytoriaGreengrass


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

"Congratulations, Miss Granger," The Healer cried, as she bustled into the room Hermione was waiting in, a smile stretched across her face. "Your suspicions were indeed correct, and I am extremely happy to tell you that, in about eight months' time, you and Mr Malfoy will be having a baby."

Even though she had been expecting it, Hermione still couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit shocked. After all, it wasn't every day that _you_, personally, were told that you were expecting a baby.

As the news sunk in, Hermione's mind subconsciously travelled to the future where she saw her and Draco, eight months from now, hovering over a small bundle, wrapped in a yellow blanket. Her breath caught in her throat as she imagined the pure joy that would be etched across both of their faces, and her heart began to beat faster as she imagined Draco reaching down and pressing a small kiss to their baby's forehead.

She knew, without a doubt, that Draco would make a wonderful father.

"Pregnant…" Hermione finally uttered, her hand slowly resting over her flat stomach. A beatific smile adorned her face; now the realisation and happiness had dawned on the young witch, Hermione was glowing.

"Once again, I wish you my congratulations, Miss Granger," The Healer echoed as she wrote notes down on her clipboard, and Hermione got ready to leave the hospital. "I will owl you an appointment in the next day or two; it'll roughly be a month from now."

Hermione, still in a slightly daze, could only nod. She was still smiling. "Thank you so much for your time, Healer Ashton," she said, her senses slowly coming back, now that the initial shock was wearing off. She offered her hand to the Healer, who took it and gave it a brief shake. "I really appreciate it."

"It wasn't a problem, Miss Granger," Healer Ashton's mood was pleasant and friendly. Hermione was glad that she could call this woman her Healer. "The pleasure was all mine, dear." She showed Hermione to the door, and opened it for the younger witch. "Until next month then – and I do hope you bring that delicious fiancé of yours with you." She sent Hermione a wink, which caused the Gryffindor to laugh.

"Keep your hands off of him," Hermione joked, as she stepped out of the ward, and onto the main corridor. "First of all he's far too young for you, and secondly there is no chance in hell that I'll ever share him."

In return to Hermione's warning, Healer Ashton pretended to be affronted. "Very well, very well," she huffed, as she shooed Hermione down to the lifts, her eyes glowing with mirth. Hermione pressed the button, and the door opened. "I will be seeing you next month then, Miss Granger. Take care now. Goodbye."

Hermione repeated the parting sentiment, entered the lift and pressed the button which would take her down to the ground floor. Now alone, Hermione was able to think more clearly than she had a minute ago when she had Healer Ashton milling around her.

_I'm having a baby_, her mind cried, as Hermione felt herself beaming with happiness. _Draco and I are going to be parents_. She couldn't wait to tell him the news tonight.

The lift halted, and the doors opened to the ground floor of Saint Mungo's. Hermione was met by a flurry of activity; all around her there were people with extra body parts, not necessarily human ones, and others who were breathing out odd things. There was a little girl, no older than four, who was currently breathing flowers. Obviously someone had gotten hold of their parent's wand.

_Merlin forbid if that ever happens to our child_, Hermione thought as she saw a little boy smoking at the ears. _By the looks of it, Saint Mungo's have to deal with this sort of thing daily._ Her eyes scanned the crowd. _Honestly_, _must be about twelve children in here already, and it's not even eleven o'clock_.

Hermione quickly left the building, and made her way onto the London Streets; no Muggle noticed her sudden appearance.

Hermione was soon lost in the crowd of Muggles, as she wondered aimlessly towards Diagon Alley. Once there, she had decided, she would apparate over to the Potter's and see how Ginny and James, their two month old son, were doing. Hermione couldn't wait to see her friend, and share the news of her pregnancy to the former Weasley. It felt right for Hermione to tell her best friend something like this; partly because she had been the first to know when Ginny was expecting James, but it was also down to the fact that if she didn't tell anyone soon, Hermione knew that she would burst.

Draco could handle not being the first to know.

Ginny opened the door on the second ring, a sleeping James cradled in her arms. She whispered an almost inaudible "Hi" to Hermione, before beckoning her inside with a slight jerk of the head. Hermione, echoing Ginny's greeting, followed her friend inside and closed the door as quietly as possible; neither wanted to disturb James.

"Give me two minutes," Ginny hissed out, "I'm just going to put him in his cot." She made her way to the stairs. "Go into the living room and make yourself at home. I'll be down in second."

Hermione, knowing the house like it were the back of her hand, made her way into the Potter's lounge. It hadn't changed since she had seen it last, accept that there was a new photo on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. It was a picture she knew all too well, for she had been the one to take it the day that James had been born. The photo Harry and Ginny waved back at her in true Wizarding fashion, before their heads turned to the small bundle which was in Ginny's arms. Hermione's grin widened as she pictured a similar picture of Draco and she with their newborn child.

_I can't wait to be a Mum_, Hermione thought, as she rested her hand on her stomach for the millionth time that day. _And just think_, she continued, _you will be in just eight months time_. At this rate, Hermione's grin would be permanent.

"Sorry about that," Ginny said as she bounded into the room, "I hope you didn't mind."

Hermione turned round and embraced her friend. "Not at all, Gin," she replied, as they broke free from each other's grasps. "I understand completely." The two friends sat down on the couch.

"So, how have you been?" Ginny asked, once they were settled. "I haven't seen you in ages, Hermione, and so I know nothing of what has been going on. Merlin, I've been such a bad friend."

Hermione chuckled slightly. "It's quite alright, Ginny," She said. "You've just had a child, so you've been finding your feet and not been doing much else apart from that. If anyone's been the bad friend here, Ginny, it's me. I should've made the time to come over, whether I was busy or not." Hermione paused as she thought back to Ginny's first question. "And as for how I've been and how I am, I can tell you now, I've never felt better."

"So the school rumours were true," Ginny gave a girlish giggle, something she hadn't done since her teenage years. "He really is that good."

Hermione's cheeks flushed red. "Ginny," she reprimanded, embarrassment evident from her face. "You are a married woman, and that is my fiancé you're talking about. Please, mind what you say."

"Oh come on Hermione," Ginny cried in delight. "You can trust me not to tell. Besides it's pretty obvious; you are practically glowing, which basically screams that you and Draco got up to quite a bit last night." Hermione was still beetroot.

"So how are Ron and Lavender?" Hermione asked, quickly changing the topic. "I haven't heard from him in a while. Is the wedding still on for this August?"

"By Dumbledore's left sock, Draco really has kept you busy." Ginny gasped. "Hermione, Ron and Lavender broke it off just under a month ago; Lavender was cheating on him with Seamus Finnegan."

Hermione's face fell at this revelation, but she couldn't help but feel slightly glad that Ron and Lavender's relationship was over. Hermione had always felt that her best friend had deserved someone more than _Lavender Brown_. He had once had Luna, until…

"Oh Ginny," Hermione sighed, "If I had known –"

Ginny waved her off. "It's alright Hermione, Ron's already over it. He's been seeing this girl called Colette quite recently and, from what I can gather, she's perfect for him."

"Well that's great to know," Hermione said, though she still looked angry with herself. "But I still feel bad for not knowing."

"Hermione," Ginny reprimanded, "It's okay. Ron's moved on from her – he's got Colette. Lavender Brown is nothing but a face of the past now. If he can forget about this, then so can you."

Hermione sighed, knowing that Ginny was right. "I'll try, Gin," She said, "but I'm not making any promises. If I happen to see Lavender Brown, I swear to God that I will –" Hermione broke off as a thought came to mind. "In fact, Ginny, if I happen to see Lavender Brown you must do everything in your power to stop me from attacking her."

Ginny who had been agreeing whole-heartedly over what Hermione was saying, looked at her friend sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Well, partly because Lavender Brown is not worth my time," Hermione answered, biting her lip slightly. "But it's also partly to do with my current condition."

"Current condition?" Ginny echoed Hermione's last two words, with a furrowed brown. Hermione could practically here the cogs turning in Ginny's head; Hermione's lip broke free from between her teeth, and the brunette allowed herself a grin.

A split second later, Ginny's head jolted up in realisation. "You're _pregnant_," Ginny squealed, as she wrapped Hermione tightly into a hug. "You and Draco are having a baby, and _I'm _going to be an Auntie! Oh, Hermione, congratulations!"

Hermione was finally released from the tight hug by Ginny, who was now bouncing with even more excitement than she was. In fact, the redhead was on the verge of tears.

"Have you told Draco yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not yet, no," she replied. "I wanted to tell you first. You know, return the favour. After all, I was the first to know about your pregnancy with James, so I felt it was only fair that you were the first to know about Baby Malfoy."

"Oh, Hermione, you didn't have to do that." Ginny exclaimed, her grin widening. "Though I do feel incredibly honoured." She quickly buried Hermione into another hug. For the rest of Hermione's visit, it was non-stop baby talk.

* * *

Three hours later, just as it was turning half past four, Hermione found herself on a familiar street. Any second now she would be home, and able to start cooking her and Draco's meal for tonight.

As she continued to walk down to the other end of where she and Draco lived, Hermione reminisced about her afternoon with Ginny and James. She thought about the laugher she and her friend had shared, as well as the inner peace that had come across her as she had felt James being placed in her arms.

"_That's going to be you and Draco in a couple of months_," Ginny had said, as she took in Hermione's expression. "_Merlin,_" Ginny had continued, "_I still can't believe that you and Malfoy are going to be parents_." All Hermione had done in response was nod her head in agreement to both of Ginny's statements.

All of a sudden, Hermione was broken out of her reverie as she realised that she was about to walk right past her house. Quickly, hoping that no one had noticed her minor mistake, she took a couple of steps back and drew her keys from her coat pocket. She had just slid the key into the lock when she felt a presence behind her. Hermione jumped slightly.

"Draco what have I told you –"

"Hello, Hermione," the voice behind her said.

Hermione froze, her whole body rigid, as the voice caused a disgusted shiver to run up her bones. Slowly, her Gryffindor courage shining through like the blazing sun, she straightened up and turned round. Brown frightened eyes clashed with hardened brown.

"W-What are you doing here?" Hermione's heart was racing against her chest. "H-How did you f-find out where I – where _we_ – lived?"

The figure, didn't reply. Instead he raised his arm up, with wand in hand, until it was pointed directly at Hermione's chest. Instinctively, Hermione opened her mouth to shout for help. Yet, she never managed to get anything out.

Just as the first signs of a scream erupted from her mouth, a red jet of light had shot out of Zabini's wand, and had caught Hermione in the chest. Hermione took one last look at the world she knew, before her mind went blank.

Everything was about to change.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh dear! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear… what on earth is Blaise up to, eh? Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought with a review, lovelies! They're great and really encouraging. I've decided that for the already written chapters I'm going to update once a week (probably a Wednesday, sometimes a Tuesday), as two have it every other week at the moment is a bit too much.

I'd also like to say, that the first few chapters (as they're part of the previous attempts) won't be changed that much. Some things are a slightly different, but I've found that it's the later chapters that have changed the most so far - mostly based around sentence structure etc, and easing the flow.

Really appreciated the reviews from last time as well! They're really encouraging.

Thanks for reading,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

"Draco, you need to calm down."

The pacing blond figure froze in his stride and turned round to face the red-headed woman, an angry sneer forming on his lips. "Calm down?" he spat, his grey eyes darkening with pent-up ire. "_Calm down?_ Ginny, I can't just _calm down _when my fiancé is missing! I just can't." Ginny sent the frustrated man a sympathetic gaze, showing that she understood what he was going through, only to have Draco send her another dark look. "It's been three days, now – _three days_ – and no one has seen her. It's like – it's like she's disappeared off the face of this earth." His expression fell even more. "It's like she's running away from _me_."

Ginny continued to watch Draco blame himself, her face etched with worry. "She'll turn up, Draco," she consoled, though it didn't do much good. "I know she will; Hermione's not the sort of person to just run off like that." _Especially when she's pregnant with your child_.

Draco didn't seem to be listening. "What did I do, Ginny?" He cried, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more. "Did I say something to her that morning, without even realising it? Did I do something that she can never forgive me for?" Draco paused as his face dawned with a new thought, going paler than normal as it did. "Did she ever _love_ me?"

"Oh Draco," Ginny sighed. "You know Hermione loves you, and she would never leave you – unless you gave her good reason to, which you haven't. Besides, you know the Aurors believe that she was taken; every piece of evidence they've found screams that."

Draco hadn't been paying attention though, his mind plagued with only his thoughts, and leaving room for no others. He stepped closer to Harry's wife, and placed his hands on her shoulders. Ginny surmised that Draco was possibly hanging onto the last of his sanity. "You saw her that morning, didn't you?" The young woman jerked her head quickly. "Was she acting strange, then? Did she seem a bit… off with you? Did she _say _anything?" He released Ginny, and began to pace again.

Ginny shook her head 'no' for all three questions. "Draco, I can assure you now, Hermione was perfectly fine when we saw each other that day. In fact, she was glowing with happiness. All she could talk about was you and the –" Ginny stopped short, realising what she was about to say.

Draco, noticing how she had stopped short of finishing a sentence, spun round and gave her an accusatory glare. "Hermione couldn't stop speaking about me and _what_?" He sneered, as he tried to push down the bile which had slowly begun to rise up his throat.

"The – the – the plans for the Wedding," Ginny quickly said. She was unsure as to whether let Draco know about the baby or not, as it could easily make him feel even worse than he was feeling now. _Though_, Ginny thought, _I think anything could set him off at this moment in time_. _He's not in the right frame of mind at all_.

"I'll ask again, _Ginny_," Draco growled, a vein throbbing in his temple. "What was it that Hermione was talking about?"

"I already told you," Ginny said, her voice firmer and more believable this time. "Hermione was just talking about the plans for the Wedding. You're planning to hold it in – er – August, right?"

"Wrong," Draco's voice rang out. "Hermione has always wanted a June Wedding; we were – _are_ – planning to have the Wedding in late June." He raised a pale blond eyebrow in an expectant manner. "So, I will ask for the third – and _final_ – time. What was it that you and Hermione were talking about?"

Ginny shook her head firmly, telling Draco that she wasn't about to say. "I'm not allowed to say," she stated clearly. "It's not my thing to tell."

Draco didn't seem to think it that way. "Listen, _Mrs Potter_, if whatever you're hiding has something to do with Hermione's well-being then I suggest you tell me now. What if she's hurt when – and _if_ – we find her? If you don't tell me – tell _us_ – then, for all you know, Ginny, it could be a matter of life and death." His eyes grew lighter as another thought broke through, and his face took on a fractured look. His voice, when he spoke, came out in a hoarse whisper. "I can't bear the thought of losing her, Gin. Please tell me what it is."

Knowing that Draco was right, Ginny finally caved, deciding to tell him. "Well, the thing is… Hermione's –" She began, unsure as to how to go about telling the Slytherin. "Draco the day Hermione came to see me, Hermione had been elsewhere already –"

"Yes, I know," Draco cut in. "She was going into to Muggle London to get some new furniture and ornaments for the flat."

"No," Ginny corrected, "Hermione didn't go there. She went somewhere else." Draco, who had just sat down and had buried his face into his hands, looked sharply at her. "Hermione is – Draco, what I'm trying to say is – well –"

Ginny didn't get to finish her sentence for at that moment the fireplace in Draco and Hermione's house burst to life, and out stepped two figures: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. From a quick glance at them both, Ginny immediately knew that they had found a lead; their faces were just as pale as Draco's.

"Harry? Ron?" Ginny asked, her brown eyes full of worry. "What is it?"

Both Harry and Ron shook their heads before giving an almost unnoticeable look at the blond man, who was staring at them intently too. "Not right now, Gin," Ron finally uttered, his blue eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Even Harry and I can't understand why Hermione's done this, which certainly means that Malfoy won't be able to."

They came into the living room and sat down on the only sofa which wasn't occupied by anyone. Harry, resting his elbows on his knees, took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. It was then that Ginny noticed an important looking sheet of parchment in one of his hands. She was about to speak up and ask what it was, when another voice rang into the living room.

"Potter, Weasley, what is that you've found?" Draco asked, not being able to bear the silence anymore. He wanted to know – and he wanted to know _now_. Harry and Ron looked at him in shock for a second, as they took in his broken state. They had never seen him looking so unkempt. "I don't think I could take it if anyone tries to hide anything else from me." Even though Harry and Ron missed it, Ginny saw him shoot a furtive glance at her before turning back to her husband and brother.

Harry cleared his throat, and began to explain what had happened. "We don't know much about it," He started, "but from what we do know it's not good news." Draco let out a choked noise. "About half an hour ago, just as Ron and I were considering to contact the Muggle Authorities – for all we know, Hermione might be in Muggle London somewhere –Hannah Abbott, who works in Wizarding Relations, came in with a rather… confusing piece of information." He paused, and unfolded the piece of parchment and read it silently, a furrow creasing up his brow. "Something which is to do with Hermione."

"She said," Ron continued, "that this had just landed on her desk for filing, and immediately she knew something was wrong. Even she, herself, recognised that the Hermione Granger she knew would never do something like this." Ron looked like he was about to be sick, and both Ginny and Draco could feel the growth of impending doom in the pit of their stomachs. "At first, we just thought it was a joke but after a quick analysis we were able to decipher that this – this document was indeed real."

Draco's heart rate was increasing as Harry and Ron continued to explain what had happened, and he wished that what they were saying was not true. Bile was rising in his throat as he processed everything that was said, though he refused take it in. This had to be some sort of mistake.

_Hermione wouldn't do this to me_, his mind kept telling him. _I know she wouldn't_. _Hermione's not that sort of person_.

He was broken out of his reverie as a piece of paper – the document – was shoved under his nose. With shaking hands he took it, and began to read.

"We're sorry, Malfoy," Potter's voice echoed somewhere in the background. "If we had known we would have done everything in our power to stop it…"

What Harry was saying after that Draco didn't hear, because all he could focus on were the words written on the paper. His grey eyes widened, and his face took on a horrified expression. As if the parchment had burnt him, Draco released it and let it float to the floor with a strangled gasp.

For a split second – his heart stopped.

Draco felt his entire world fall apart.

* * *

"Something's not right about all this," Ginny said to Harry and Ron that evening after they had seen a destroyed Draco to bed, and had settled down in the lounge once again. "I can't put my wand on it, but what has happened just doesn't add up."

"You got that right," Ron spat out, his blue eyes hardening slightly. "The Hermione I know – well, _used_ to know – would have never done something like this."

"Exactly," Ginny continued, always the voice of reason. "And the Hermione we still know would have never done something like this; it's just not in her nature." She paused for her second, as she allowed herself a sip of tea. "Besides, she wouldn't do this to Draco; she loves him too much." Ginny swallowed, as she forced the next few words her of her mouth. "_And_ she's pregnant with his child."

Harry and Ron dropped their mugs of coffee, allowing the brown liquid spill onto the cream carpet, jaws unhinged. They hadn't expected Ginny to say something like that.

"Ginny," Harry began, once he got his senses back on track, and cleared the mess away with a flick of his wand. "Did you just say that Hermione's pregnant?" His wife nodded. "And _Malfoy_ is the father?" Ginny nodded again. Harry settled down for a second, as he processed this new information before he managed to grit out, "Then why the _hell_ is she not here then?"

"I think we all want to know that question, Harry," Ginny told her husband, her voice still calm. "And, if Hermione had the choice, I dare say she _would_ be here too."

"But what about the –" Ron began, before being silenced via a withering look from his sister.

"All you two are doing are thinking about what you know, and assuming that Hermione agreed to let this happen." she stated, her eyes blazing at how narrow-minded the two were being. "You two really need to start looking at the bigger picture. You're both Aurors for Merlin's sake! Isn't that part of your job?"

"Ginny," Ron cut in before the red-head could go off on one. "We're still trying to take this all in; we have a right to act like we are. Give us a break."

"I've been giving you a break _all_ day," Ginny hissed, running a hand through her hair. "A break which hasn't been returned. In my eyes, the only person who is allowed to be acting the way you two are is Draco. In the space of three days – nearly _four_ – his entire life has been ruined."

"Hey," Ron snapped back, "I resent that comment. Hermione was our friend long before she got engaged to Malfoy, so if _anyone_ is allowed to act the way that Ferret is, then it's us." Harry, much to Ginny's surprise (and relief) remained silent, and didn't agree with her brother's statement.

"I thought you were over all this 'Ferret' business," Ginny growled. "Obviously I was wrong. Merlin, Ron, you're still as immature as you were when you _were_ 14 years old."

"I'm sorry, Gin, but old habits die hard."

"Yes, well," Ginny pursed her lips, and licked them. "Whether 'old habits die hard' or not, you are going to do your damn best to be civil to Draco. He's got enough to deal with at this moment of time, and he doesn't need you to make it worse."

"It's alright, Ginny," a voice drawled from the doorway. "Personally I don't really care about whether your brother is civil to me or not. I've learnt to ignore him, when it becomes necessary." The trio of Gryffindor's spun round to see frazzled-looking Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway. "All I care about now is finding Hermione, and asking her why the _fuck _she is married to Blaise Zabini, when – and _if _– she's carrying my child."

* * *

The first thing Hermione noticed upon waking up was that she was not in her own home. The second thing which she was quick to register was that the dark arm wrapped around her waist most certainly did not belong to Draco. The third and final thing Hermione registered was that the arm belonged to a slumbering Blaise Zabini. What Hermione could not recollect though, was how she had gotten herself into this situation in the first place.

Slowly, her skin crawling with disgust as she felt Zabini's naked skin on her own, Hermione edged herself out from between the purple and black duvet. Once free of the silk confines, Hermione covered her naked self up as much as possible as she searched around the room for a gown to wrap her body in. She didn't want to be naked around Blaise Zabini, whether he was still sleeping or not, for any longer than she already had been.

As she ventured across the large room looking for a gown, Hermione was careful enough to not disturb the slumbering man – _arsehole_, Hermione thought – in case he were to do anything which would violate her person. She tried to push away the thought that he had done that already, but was unable to do so. Tears filled her eyes.

Not caring if he were to wake up, and hear her now, Hermione quickly ran to the doorway, and opened it. She grabbed one of the dressing gowns that were hung on the doorway by a hook as she ran out, and quickly took a left, as the other way led her to a dead end. As she ran, Hermione shoved her arms into the dressing gown, and tied the ribbon around her waist.

She needed to get out of here – and fast.

Hermione froze in her running as a sense of nausea washed over her. Despite the fact that she wanted to get out of here, she needed to find a bathroom more. If she were to throw up in the middle of the hallway – not that she really cared – Hermione knew that her OCD would get the better of her, and she would force herself to clear it up. And with no wand by the time she would be finished, Blaise would definitely be awake. She couldn't risk being caught.

As if Merlin were looking down on her – _despite my situation_ – Hermione noticed that the bathroom was about five steps from where she had stopped. Hermione made it there in two, slammed the bathroom door shut, and locked it behind her. She quickly ran to the toilet, lifted up the lid and began to be sick. Her morning sickness had started.

Five minutes later, Hermione had stopped throwing up and was now trying to relax. She had wrapped her hands around the toilet seat's rim to stop her falling from the floor, and her head rested against the cool porcelain, calming down her feverish skin. Hermione hoped that she wasn't about to be sick again, though the lump in her throat told her different, and she slowly staggered to her feet, her knees nearly buckling underneath her as she found it hard to stand.

While Hermione was standing up, though, a flash of gold from her left hand caught her eye. It was unfamiliar to her because the engagement ring she was used to from Draco was silver. As a new feeling started to bubble up in her being, Hermione slowly raised her hand to get a closer look. She silently hoped that the colouring was due to the light. As soon as she saw it, however, Hermione knew that her prayers had not been answered.

With one look at the simple gold wedding band on her finger, Hermione felt her world fall apart. Somehow – and she didn't know how – her and Blaise Zabini were married.

Hermione screamed.

* * *

**Author's Note: So… Hermione is married to Blaise, huh? How on earth did that happen? All will be revealed eventually, I promise. I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts with a review! They're all really appreciated. Thank you!**

**VickytoriaGreengrass**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

"You sure as hell know how to wake up the dead, don't you?" Blaise drawled the minute Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, and into the hallway. He was leaning on the stairs banister, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised up, and a smirk etched on his face. Despite his calm out take on things, Hermione could feel his anger pulsing off of him in waves. "Screaming like a banshee is not a good thing to do when you're trying to escape, is it?"

Hermione still hadn't said anything; she was too busy seething with anger at the man before her. "How _dare_ you!" Hermione finally gritted out, her fists curling. "What gave you the right to do this? Why the hell couldn't you just leave me – _leave us_ – alone?"

Blaise gave a deep chuckle, and shrugged. "You didn't give me a second chance, Hermione," he said as if it were as simple as that. "A second chance was all I asked for, but all you did was run into the arms of my former best friend." He made a step towards her.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You've got no one to blame but yourself on that front, Zabini," She snarled, taking a step back at his advance. "If you hadn't gone and –"

"_That _is quite enough," Blaise hissed, cutting Hermione short. "I will _not_ have my _wife_ speak to me in such a manner."

"Your wife?" Hermione's voice rose another octave. "_Your wife_!" She lifted her left hand. "This ring means _nothing_ to me. As far as _I'm_ concerned I am still engaged to Draco Malfoy, and I am definitely _not_ your wife!"

Blaise flashed a dark grin, making Hermione's anger boil even more. "I think our Wedding Certificate begs to differ." He drew his wand out, waved it in a big flourish, and a tied up scroll appeared in the air. With another tap of his wand the scroll unrolled and Blaise, with a clearing of his throat, began to read. "The Ministry of Magic hereby declare the marriage of Blaise Fabrizio Laurent Zabini and Hermione Jean Granger, on Tuesday the 14th October 2003. Witnessed by Mrs Eugenie Alezae Zabini, Mother of the Groom, Miss Pansy Olivia Parkinson, best friend of the Bride –" here he paused and smirked at Hermione, "– and Mr Theodore William Nott, best friend of the Groom." Blaise stopped at that to take in Hermione's reaction so far. His dark brown eyes glistened with sick pleasure as he took in her distraught profile.

The Gryffindor in question was seething with anger and humiliation; she had never felt more ashamed of herself. How could she have just let this happen? Tears freely rolled down her cheeks, and her lip, which was being worried by her teeth, trembled due to a held back sob. Blaise cleared his throat and began to read again.

"Bound by blood and magic there is no chance of separation, which was understood by both parties before the ceremony began. With no further ado, the Ministry of Magic, on behalf of the Wizarding World, would like to Congratulate Mr and Mrs Zabini, and wish them all the happiness in the upcoming years." Blaise finished reading from the scroll, rolled it up again and, before Hermione could get her hands on it, vanished it into thin air. After the deed was done, he shot Hermione a triumphant look. "So, _Mrs_ _Zabini_, if that doesn't make you _my_ wife, then what does?"

"I _hate_ you," Hermione choked out, as she tried to relieve her body from the shock. "I absolutely _hate_ you!" The words bubbled out in a hoarse scream. "You've ruined my life, you've ruined Draco's life and you've ruined my child's life! In all of this, all you have –" Hermione, with a gasp, clasped her hands to her mouth as soon as realised what she had just told Zabini. She hadn't wanted to tell him about the pregnancy unless he tried to kill the baby, or tried to use the child to his advantage.

Blaise let out a deep cackle. "This is too good to be true," he sneered, fingering his wand delicately. His laughter became louder, and Hermione felt all the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up; a shiver went up and down her spine. Disgust was in every cell of her body. "This is all too good to be true! Oh Merlin, now not only will Malfoy have no fiancé, but he'll also have no child. This, my dear _wife_, is my lucky day." Slowly he began to raise his wand.

Hermione, seeing where Blaise's wand was going, quickly shot into action. She was not about to let Zabini do anything to her _or_ the baby. "H-how did you get the Ministry of Magic to marry us?" Blaise paused at Hermione's question. "I mean, shouldn't they have been able to tell whether it was forced or not?"

As she continued to talk Hermione began to walk around, so as to get to the stairs. Blaise, who seemed to be entranced by Hermione's question, followed her footsteps. The Gryffindor allowed herself a silent leap of triumph; the plan she had quickly formed in her mind was working.

"After all, I remember reading that the Binding Spell used in weddings can detect when either the Bride or Groom are being forced into a marriage. So how come that didn't happen with me? It is quite obvious to me that the Imperius Curse was used somewhere in all this."

Hermione was near the stairs now, and Blaise was the other side of the landing; either he was acting dumb to what Hermione was doing, or he truly was stupid. Hermione, even though she hoped it was the latter, knew that Blaise was just toying with her. She had known him too long to not know what he was truly like.

"That would be telling now, wouldn't it," Blaise smirked. "Honestly, Hermione, did you not think that I hadn't planned all this down to the last detail. Admittedly, most of it was my Mother's idea – hates to see her son unhappy, you know – but I was the one who executed everything down to the last second. I was the one who made sure nothing could go wrong."

Hermione's feet met the edge of the top stair; her eyes quickly flicked to the ebony table which was situated next to the banister, and the Ming Vase which was placed on top. The next part of her plan came to mind.

"Okay, so that explains your mother's involvement," Hermione said, grasping at straws. "But what about Nott and Parkinson? How come they're involved?"

"It's simple," Blaise told her, his wand raising up once again. "Nott had never forgiven Malfoy for killing his father during the Final Battle, and Pansy wanted revenge on you for stealing Draco from her. We were killing two birds with one stone."

Hermione couldn't help it – she snorted. "Just like you loosing me via your own stupidity, Pansy has got no one to blame save for herself on losing Draco too." She moved down onto the step below. "You say you did this for revenge, when in actual fact you did this for your own selfishness." Blaise's face had turned deadly. "And don't deny it, Zabini, when you know it's the truth. How _pathetic_ can you get?"

Blaise, having enough of Hermione's words, raised his wand in a slashing motion. "_Luguolo Parvulus_!" He cried, and a dark purple jet of light shot out from the magical stick.

As soon as Blaise had started to utter the Abortion Curse, Hermione had grabbed the Ming Vase and, with all her might, chucked it at him. The spell shattered the china, and shards of it rained down on the dark Wizard. As his cries of pain filled the air, Hermione dashed down the stairs.

"Come back here you filthy little Mudblood!" She heard Blaise roar, as Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs. She moved just as another spell was shot in her direction.

Hermione tore through the large house, not even daring to stop to catch breath, her eyes frantic. She needed a fireplace – she needed to get out of _here_! She opened door after door, not coming across a heated hearth once. As her breaths became shorter, she heard footsteps coming closer; Hermione knew that Blaise was close on her tail.

_Merlin, please let me and my child get out of here safe_, Hermione prayed, as she entered another room. _Please may we both survive._

Hermione stopped immediately as she took note of the fireplace, glowing orange with flames, and ran towards it. Obviously, Merlin, or some God-like entity, was looking down at her, and answering her pleas for help and safety. She quickly grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and chucked it into the roaring fire; the flames turned to an acid green.

"You are not going _anywhere_, Granger!" Blaise screamed, as he entered the room and shot another Abortion Curse at her. Hermione, who had just cried her destination, clutched at her stomach as the spell hit. Seconds later, just before Blaise could grab her, she disappeared, pain pulsing through her body.

As quickly as Hermione had vanished, she burst through another fireplace and into the familiar carpet of her and Draco's living room. She was still clutching at her stomach.

"Hermione?" A voiced gasped out, as she saw someone's feet come into view. "Is that you?" Slowly Hermione lifted her head, and nodded.

Pained brown eyes met stunned grey.

"Draco, please," Hermione gasped out, tears streaming down her face. "I _need_ to get to Saint Mungo's. You _have _to take me there!"

Draco remained where he was, still in shock at Hermione's sudden appearance. He hadn't expected to see her again for a very long time.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his voice as hoarse as hers.

"Z-Zabini has just placed the Abortion Curse on me," She cried out, as she tried to fight the spell in her body despite it being no use. Tears were coursing down her cheeks. "If we don't get there soon, I'm going to lose the baby." Draco paled, and immediately went to her side. "I'm going to lose _our_ child!"

* * *

**Author's Note: **And right there, guys, is a wonderfully big cliffy for you. Heheheh. Anywho, I hope liked this chapter; it was incredibly dark, but I wasn't exactly going to have this fic be a bed of roses.

Please let me know with a review!

Thanks,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

Three hours later, when Draco was on the verge of storming into the hospital room himself, Healer Ashton finally emerged, her face sombre and chalk white. For a few seconds the Healer and Draco stared at one another, before the elder woman beckoned Draco to take a seat. Slowly walking back, his entire body trembling with trepidation, the Slytherin obliged the Healer's silent plea.

"How – how is she?" Draco finally choked out, rubbing his sweaty palms on his trouser legs. "Is Hermione going to be okay? What about the – the baby? They're both going to be alright, aren't they?" The questions came out in a breathy rush, words tumbling over the other, that to a normal ear his speech would make no sense.

Healer Ashton, obviously used to this sort of reaction from friends and family of the patients, understood Draco's questions perfectly though. "Mr Malfoy," she began, her voice just as unsteady as his, "first of all let me assure you that Miss Granger is in a perfectly stable condition. We've given her a mild Calming Draught, and she is currently resting. We have been able to stop the internal bleeding." Draco looked at her with a curious expression, which caused Healer Ashton to explain more. "In case you are not aware of this, Sir, but not only does the Abortion Curse set out to kill the baby, it also sets out to cause great harm to its Mother as well. It is part of the – er – punishment."

"Punishment?" Draco echoed, his voice as hollow as he felt. "What do you mean?"

"The Abortion Curse, as I think you are aware, was used between the Fourteenth and Nineteenth Century to all women who found themselves with child out of wedlock, or with child from a man who was not their husband. Part of the curse was to cause the Mother pain for her infidelity or her sleeping around." The Healer paused for a second, and gathered herself. "Depending on the strength or anger of the Wizard – sometimes both – the punishment given to the witch would be most severe; this is what happened in Miss Granger's case."

Draco paled even more. "She is going to be alright though, isn't she?" He ran a frustrated hand through blond locks. "And the baby?"

"I can assure you now, Mr Malfoy, that Miss Granger will be perfectly fine. We've stopped the bleeding, as I said before, and we are now giving her time to rest. Don't worry, Mr Malfoy, you will see your fiancé soon." She gave Draco a tight smile, before her face growing even more sombre than before. "The baby, on the other hand, is a different matter."

Draco began to shake his head in denial. "No," he muttered, begging the Healer to tell him something different. "It can't be dead; it just can't be." Draco, his face white with despair, started to get up and pace along the hallway, mumbling that the baby – _his_ baby – wasn't dead.

"Mr Malfoy, please, if you would just let me explain –"

"NO!" Draco screamed, as he smashed both his fists into the wall. "I will not listen to you! I am not about to let you tell me that my child is dead!" The pounding of skin on brick continued, and soon blood was dribbling out of his knuckles. Healer Ashton, silenced by Draco's reaction, watched aghast.

"Mr Malfoy, you need to listen to me," Healer Ashton finally got out, as she approached the grieving man. "If you do then I'll be able to tell you exactly what has happened to the child."

"What's the point," Draco gasped out, voice dry and hoarse, as he stopped hitting the wall and rested his forehead against it. "All you're going to tell me is what I've already guessed." The blond man broke out into dry sobs.

Healer Ashton, thinking it better for him to sit down before she explained everything, placed a comforting arm round the man's shoulders and directed Draco back to his chair. Taking both hands in hers, and drawing her wand to heal his bleeding knuckles, Healer Ashton prepared to tell him the news.

"The baby is not dead, Mr Malfoy," she told him, her voice soothing and calm. "Its age has just changed, that is all." Draco's head snapped up so quickly that the sound of bone rubbing against cartilage could be heard along the corridor. "Another element of the abortion curse, that you obviously weren't aware of, is that the child does not die immediately. Depending on how far along a woman is when it's cast, it can take up to a matter of hours or days for the child to die."

"So the baby isn't dead?" Draco asked, his voice holding a touch of hope. "The baby's going to be alright."

The Healer nodded. "It could possibly be touch and go – like all cases where the Abortion Curse is involved – but, considering you got Miss Granger here immediately, then the chances of the child now growing to full term is a little over eighty percent." She cleared her throat. "However, three weeks of the baby's original age has been taken away due to the curse, therefore it is now in the shape of a two week old foetus."

Draco, though slightly worried about the new age of the baby, wiped his face, and let out a big sigh of relief. He would be forever grateful to whatever God-like entity there was out there, as well as the Healers of Saint Mungo's. If it hadn't been for them then Hermione and the baby would not be here.

"Does Hermione know of this yet?" Draco asked, as he looked towards the door which Hermione was through. Even though he was pretty sure that Hermione would be relieved that the baby was still alive and kicking, he also knew that she would be crushed at how close she had been to losing the child.

"Miss Granger is aware that the child is still alive," Healer Ashton admitted. "However, she still doesn't know about the age change; we wish for her to be in a much calmer disposition before we let her in on that piece of information. It might cause her a fair amount of stress which, if we're not careful, might do her and the baby more harm than good." She gave Draco a pointed look. "When you go inside please do not tell Miss Granger unless we say otherwise."

Draco gave a pointed look towards Healer Ashton himself. "I will tell her what I see fit," Draco stated, his voice holding a dangerous edge. "I understand that we do not wish to cause Hermione stress, but I also feel that she has a right to know. If this was you in there, wouldn't you wish to know immediately what the problems were?"

"Mr Malfoy, I understand entirely where you are coming from but –"

"Can I go and see her?" Draco interrupted, already making his way to the door. "After all, I haven't seen her since she went missing four days ago. Her arriving the way she did this morning into our home, as well, left little room for talk. The minute I saw the condition she was in I brought her straight here."

Healer Ashton, her heart going out to the young Malfoy, gave a brief nod. "Of course you can, Mr Malfoy; go straight through." Draco started to push the door open. "What shall I do if any visitors arrive though?" The Healer called quickly.

Draco gave her a brief look. "Ask them for their names and then come and see me," Draco said. "I'm not about to just let _anyone_ come into this room."

With a quick nod of understanding Healer Ashton bustled down to the other end of the Ward, whilst Draco entered Hermione's room. In three quick strides he was by her side, his hand tightly wrapped around hers. Hermione opened her eyes slowly, took in who it was, smiled and gave his wrist a weak squeeze.

"Hey," She whispered, as Draco pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Long time no see, don't you think?"

Draco gave her a tight smile, but didn't laugh. "How are you feeling?" He asked instead.

"Tired," Hermione said, forcing back a yawn. "Happy to see you again, angry, worried, sad – you know the normal emotions you feel after you've experienced something like this – but mostly I'm relieved." A small tear leaked from her eye and made its way down her cheek; with his free hand Draco wiped it away. A small sob came from Hermione's throat. "I thought I was going to lose the baby," she managed to get out, her voice choking up. "When I woke up, and I saw the Healers' faces, I thought that Zabini's curse had succeeded; I thought I'd lost our child." Her body broke out into wracking sobs, and her grip on Draco's hand tightened as she tried to seek comfort.

The young Malfoy immediately tried to calm her. "It's alright, Hermione," he cooed, as he brushed away strands of hair from her sweaty face. "Everything's fine. Zabini can't hurt you in here – and _especially _when I'm around." _He's done that enough to both of us already, and I'm not about to let that happen anymore_.

Slowly the sobbing subsided, into breathy whimpers. "I'm so sorry," Hermione mumbled out, her brown eyes glistening with guilt as they stared at the wedding band which had replaced her engagement ring. "I am _so_ sorry, Draco."

Draco, his face impassive, continued to stare at Hermione's left hand. Whilst he knew that Hermione hadn't wanted to marry Blaise, there was still a part of him which made him feel angry towards the brunette witch. She didn't deserve his anger, Draco knew that, but he couldn't help but feel some resentment. After all, he was supposed to have been the one married to her.

Draco closed his eyes at the thought of Zabini touching Hermione; his former best friend would surely pay for violating _his_ fiancés body.

"Draco?" Hermione's voice, still weak and fragile, broke through the barrier of his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Draco gave a slight nod. "What happened, Hermione?" Draco found himself asking. "I'm sorry if this distresses you, but I _need_ to know." He let out an aggravated groan. "Damn it, Love, how the hell did this happen? How could you have let this happen?"

Hermione, who had been preparing herself for this question, felt her breath catch in her throat; she obviously hadn't been prepared enough. For a few seconds grey eyes stared into brown orbs, but then Hermione looked away, breaking the connection; shame and anger covered every inch of her face.

"I'm not too keen on the details," She explained, as she lifted herself up into a seating position with Draco's aid. "But from what I can gather Blaise Zabini, along with his mother, Parkinson and Theodore Nott, found a way for the two of us to get married, via the Ministry of Magic, without the spell, which is used to bind a Witch and a Wizard together in Holy Matrimony, detecting any foul-play." She swallowed, and a few more tears rolled from her eyes. "My guess is that the Imperius Curse had something to do with it all, but I'm not entirely sure."

"That means you can get the marriage annulled, right?" Draco asked, hope evident in his voice. "After all, the Imperius Curse is an Unforgivable and not allowed to be used unless the wizard or witch who uses it wishes to end up in Azkaban." He took one look at his fiancé's face, and knew that it wasn't going to be as simple as that. His hope, as quickly as it appeared, vanished.

"According to Blaise, Draco, there is nothing that I can do," Her hand covered her mouth, forcing down a sob. "According to him, I've now got to stay a Zabini all my life, whether I want to or not. As the spell obviously found me willing, even though I was _anything_ but, there is no way that Zabini and I can ever separate."

"No," Draco's reaction to this news was similar as to how he reacted when he had assumed the baby to be dead. "I'm not going to allow that." He released Hermione's hand, and began to walk around the room. "I swear to you now, Hermione, I am going to find a way for us to be together; for us to become husband and wife. I am not about to let that – that sick _fuck_ take away the most important person – _people_ – in my life. Whether it takes weeks, months or even years, I swear to you on my Father's grave, that one day we will be married."

"But Draco, how are you possibly going to do that? If what Zabini said was true – about there being no way out of this – then that means there will never be a way for us to be together." Hermione, tears streaming down her face, watched the angry man before her, worry in her eyes. Considering the volatile mood he was in, Hermione knew that Draco would easily be capable of making a rash decision.

A decision that would end up with him in Azkaban.

"I'll kill him if I have to," Draco said running his hands through his hair. "I'll bloody murder the bastard if that is what it takes." He allowed himself a brief glance at Hermione. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but if you think that I'm just going to sit back here and –"

Draco did a double take of Hermione, who was a complete mess, and was by her side in an instant. He brought her into a hug, where she clung to him with as much strength as she could muster, and peppered her forehead with kisses. He needed to get her to calm so as to not cause any more complications.

"We'll get through this, Hermione," he muttered, as he brought his lips down to her cheek. "You, the baby and I will get through this; I'm not about to let Zabini ruin anything for me - especially you." Draco felt slightly ashamed as he realised he was crying too. "Once the Ministry realise what he's done to you, they'll try and find a way to get the marriage void; even they won't be able to stand by and do nothing. I promise you –"

"_Draco_," Hermione interrupted, her voice rising above his. "Can we _please_ not talk about him at the moment. We've just been reunited, but all you can talk about is this ridiculous marriage and Zabini." She pulled back and looked up into his eyes. "Look, can't we just sit here – in silence? Can't you just hold me?"

"Merlin, I'm sorry Hermione," Draco apologised, as he slid onto the bed and wrapped Hermione tightly in his arms. "I didn't think –" Hermione silenced him with a kiss, to which he greedily responded. Some minutes later they pulled apart, breathless.

"For the love of Salazar, Hermione," Draco crowed his eyes glistening with amusement, "when was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

Hermione jabbed Draco in the stomach, sending him a mock glare. "The last time I brushed them was four days ago." Whilst she had said it in a joking manner, Draco also knew what she was getting at; he dropped the subject immediately, and both fell into a companionable silence.

Ten minutes later, Draco broke the silence. "Hermione," he began, dragging her name slightly, "there's something that you need to know." Hermione, who had stiffened at the tone of voice, looked up at Draco with a weary expression. "It's about the baby –"

"What about the baby?"

"Zabini did manage to harm the child," He explained hesitantly, tightening his embrace around Hermione, who was trembling. "He managed to take three weeks off of its life."

Hermione looked at him, eyes glistening, her face a picture of shock, anger and worry. "What do you mean?" She was near hysterics. "The Healer said that the baby was alright; that it was still alive. Did they _lie_ to me?"

Draco shook his head. "No, they didn't lie to you, Hermione, don't worry," he said, as he tried to calm her down. "They just didn't want you to know the full extent of the – er – damage, until they knew you were in a stable condition."

"So why are _you_ telling me then?" Hermione asked.

"Because I feel that you have a right to know about what Zabini did to the baby. I feel that you need to know how close we came to losing our child." Draco told her. "It's nothing dreadfully serious, but it's still a cause for concern."

"Draco you're not making any sense," Hermione was desperately trying to stay calm. "Just tell me, please."

"Fine," Draco said. "Basically, the baby isn't five weeks anymore – it's only two. The curse managed to take away three weeks of the baby's life before the Healers were able to stop it."

"Okay, I get that," Hermione cried, "but what are you trying to say here? Are you saying that there is a small chance of the baby dying?"

"Well, there is a slightly chance of that happening, but instead of the baby now being born in late June, it's probably going to be born in early July."

Hermione gave a sigh of relief. "Draco you got me worried there for a second. I thought you were about to say that there is a possibility of the baby not making it."

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying here, Granger," Draco replied. "If you hadn't arrived back to our house when you had, and if I hadn't found you, neither of you would be here right this minute. Or, at the very least, Zabini would've been able to kill the baby." Draco couldn't get the thought of Hermione dying out of his head.

Hermione, finally realising what her fiancé was getting, felt her face soften slightly. "But neither of us did, Draco," she consoled, curling her body around his even more. "Both the baby and I survived." She took his hand, and placed it over her flat stomach. "We're still here. Sure, the Curse took three weeks off of the child's life but, even though it's a scary thought that we came close to losing the baby, that doesn't matter. The baby still survived _and_ we're together again."

"You always know how to say the right things, don't you?" Draco said, giving Hermione a small smile.

Hermione, her face now glowing with some colour, winked at Draco. "It's a magical talent of mine," She joked. For the first time both of them laughed and let the relaxing silencing embrace them. They were just happy to be with each other once again.

Another twenty minutes went by before there came a knock on the door, and Healer Ashton stepped in. "Sorry to disturb," she whispered, trying to not upset the peaceful atmosphere in the room. "But you've got some visitors."

Both Hermione and Draco wriggled themselves up to a sitting position. "Who are they?" Draco immediately asked.

Healer Ashton looked down at the clipboard, and began to read off the names. "Well, there is the Potter Family, a Mr Ronald Weasley and his girlfriend, Colette Washington, and a Mrs Narcissa Malfoy as well."

Draco sent the Healer a small smile. "Thanks you, Healer Ashton," he said. "You can send them in."

"Very well, Mr Malfoy," Healer Ashton countered, as she opened the door to the room again. She was just about to step out when she let out a sudden gasp. She quickly turned round.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her eyes full of concern. "Healer Ashton, what is the matter?"

"It's nothing, my dear," Healer Ashton replied in a rush, "I just forgot to tell you the last of your visitors; I missed his name off of the list." However, the tone of voice suggested something entirely different.

Draco and Hermione shot each other a worried look. "Who is he?" Hermione found herself asking, dread filling her stomach.

"His name is Blaise Zabini," Healer Ashton replied, looking down at the list. "And he keeps on claiming – no matter how _ridiculous_ the idea sounds – that he's your husband."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Did you honestly think I'd kill off the baby? I hope not. I could never do that! This is probably one of my favourite chapters so far. I just love the interaction that Draco and Hermione have. I am aware that some of you will think that Draco is a bit OOC, but I'm trying to keep him as realistic as possible, whilst showing that he has changed. Do you honestly think, for this fic, I'd be able to have him with Hermione any other way?

Anywho, I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you thought with a review! Thanks my dears,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	6. IMPORTANT Author's Note: Take 2

**IMPORTANT Author's Note:**

**Hey guys! Really sorry this isn't a chapter update, but there's something that I obviously need to clear up with a few of you. Earlier today I received the following guest review: **

_"This story is exactly the same as the old awfully wedded! you're not writing new chapters, you're just copying!"_

**So, first things first, this is MY story and I have in no way stolen in it! I explained this to everyone in the big AUTHOR'S NOTE in the 1st chapter of the story. Clearly some people haven't read it and, having recognised the story elsewhere on , they've immediately assumed that I'm taking credit for somebody else's work - yeah, my own! So, in case you missed the memo at all here is a brief sum of it all again. **

**1. I started this story a few years ago under the ****different**** pen-name of** _XxXVickyBXxX_. **I then lost interest in the story and passed it on to **_alosercanwin_**, who happily carried on the story for 3 more chapters before abandoning it herself. **

**2. A few weeks back now, I found the story and, after letting** _alosercanwin _**know that I had taken it back up again, I started to re-post the first 12 chapters, and started to write up the following few. **

**3. For the most part, the first few chapters have only undergone slightly minor editing; in the last few chapters (a mixture of both myself and **_alosercanwin _ **writing) the changes are a lot more obvious - especially if you've read the story before. Naturally, I am NOT about to re-write the whole story; firstly, I'm happy with how most of my chapters were written when I started it, and secondly I have no time to re-write chapters when they are perfect (IMO) the way they are. This, therefore, gives me time to write other chapters for this story as well as concentrate on other fics I'm writing/planning and my uni work. **

**So, with that being said, I hope this is now COMPLETELY cleared up. I am really sorry to any of you who have to read this when you're completely understanding of the situation. However, I do not appreciate being falsely accused of something I haven't done, especially when I've explained everything beforehand. For those who perhaps were in mind of accusing me - or have accused me - without getting their facts straight I hope to not have offended you, but I will fight my corner, even if it means coming across as annoyed (which I currently am). I hope, however, that this does not stop your enjoyment/continuation of the story from herein. Furthermore, to show you some goodwill, here is a sneak preview of Chapter 6, which I will update you with on Wednesday next week. I hope you enjoy:  
**

"Hermione, I –" Draco began as he got up from the floor, Blaise close behind him.

"No," Hermione interrupted, her voice breaching no argument. "I don't care what your excuse is Draco, there was no need to start a bloody punch-up!"

"I would say there was," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. "I mean, come on, after what Zabini –"

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Hermione had turned on him. "Don't think I've forgotten about you!" Harry began to snigger; Hermione turned to face him, glaring daggers. "Or you Harry James Potter! How could the both of you have just stood there and not even try to break them apart?"

Harry and Ron looked away sheepishly, cheeks red in embarrassment. Despite being fully grown men – which was part of the problem – Hermione always knew how to make them feel like naughty little schoolboys again. Even Mrs Weasley couldn't make them feel this low, which was saying something.

* * *

**Thanks for reading this! Until next time!  
**

**VictoriaGreengrass  
**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

* * *

It took Draco all but three seconds for him to recognise the name uttered from the Healer's lips. Before anyone could stop him, the young Malfoy stormed out of the room, mind clouded with anger, and lunged for the smirking man in front of him.

"You bastard!" Draco cried, as his fist landed swiftly on Blaise's nose. "You absolute bastard!"

The crack of bone breaking ran throughout the hallway, and Zabini cried out as his nose fractured. He barely had time to compose himself when Draco hit him again. He staggered backwards, slipped, and landed on the hard linoleum floor. The back of his head caught the edge of the wall, and a small gash appeared on the corner of his forehead. Blaise winced in pain.

Before he could get up, however, Draco pounced on top of him and began to strike every inch of flesh that the blond could reach; all the while profanities sprang from pale lips. Blaise, released from the shock of Draco's attack, began to fight back. The two men, ignoring the cries from Narcissa, Colette and Ginny to stop fighting, tumbled around the floor causing abrasions to blemish their skin.

"Why the hell did you do it?" Draco roared, as he landed another punch to Blaise's face.

Blaise kneed Draco in the groin, causing the blond to roll off of the other man, groaning in pain. Blaise took this moment of weakness to his advantage, and landed a couple of blows to Draco's body. The blond man gasped for breath; one of Blaise's punches had left him winded.

"Like I was going to let her get away that easily," Blaise sneered, as Draco pushed him off of his body, and sent him flying into the wall again. "She was supposed to be _mine_, Malfoy!"

Slowly, Draco rose to his feet. He wiped some blood from his nose and curled his lips into a grimace. "Yes, well, if you hadn't decided to cheat on her then maybe she would've still been yours." Blaise froze and glared at his former best friend. "However, you just couldn't keep your _pants_ on, and decided to sleep with the first thing that decided to spread its legs for you!"

The room fell deathly silent at Draco's admission; no one, save for those four people involved, had ever truly known the reason for Blaise and Hermione's break-up. Now that they did, though, they were ready to kill Blaise themselves. Well, Harry and Ron were anyway.

Molten brown eyes clashed with steel grey; both men had perfect sneers etched on their faces, and their noses curled slightly. The two Slytherins were sporting a variety of cuts and bruises, and both were panting for breath. The fight seemed to be over…

"You're dead Malfoy!" Blaise screamed, and he let loose at Draco again.

Or maybe not…

Healer Ashton, who had finally recovered from Blaise and Draco's first fight, started to scream for the two men to stop fighting. "This is a hospital, boys," she cried, as Draco and Blaise tumbled past her, causing the Healer to step back slightly, "and _not_ a playground! Please stop this fighting _at once_!"

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and both of the men – or _boys_, as they were seen in the Healer's eyes – continued to fight. With a huff the Healer turned to where Harry and Ron were standing.

"You two are Aurors," she shouted, as she indicated at the scrabbling Blaise and Draco. "Can't you do something about it?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, seemed to consider the Healer's request, before they shook their heads. "Sorry," Ron said on behalf of the two. "We're not on duty." Healer Ashton began to splutter, infuriated at the reaction she had received.

"Plus," Harry said, ignoring the utter looks of horror he was receiving from his wife, Colette, Narcissa and the Healer, "Zabini bloody deserves what he's getting at the moment. If it hadn't been for him then Hermione wouldn't even be in here."

"Harry!" Ginny reprimanded. "You've got to do something! Hermione wouldn't encourage _this_." She gestured to Blaise and Draco.

"You could lose your job over this Ronald," Colette said, her voice quite calm and reasonable despite the massacre which was taking place. "Do you really want that to happen?"

Ron opened his mouth to reply when Narcissa Malfoy jumped it. "You cannot just stand there and do nothing!" Her voice was shrill. "What if Draco gets seriously injured? I don't want my son to die! Merlin help me Potter, but go and help him!"

Hermione, who had been hearing the commotion outside of her room but not seeing it, finally made her way to the door. She took one look at the two Slytherins and began to fume. What on earth had Draco been thinking?

"Just stop it! Both of you!" She cried angrily. Both men paused in their fighting, and the arguing group stopped immediately. All at once eight heads turned towards the Gryffindor. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Hermione, I –" Draco began as he got up from the floor, Blaise close behind him.

"No," Hermione interrupted, her voice breaching no argument. "I don't care what your excuse is Draco, there was no need to start a bloody punch-up!"

"I would say there was," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. "I mean, come on, after what Zabini –"

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Hermione had turned on him. "Don't think I've forgotten about you!" Harry began to snigger; Hermione turned to face him, glaring daggers. "Or you Harry James Potter! How could the both of you have just stood there and not even try to break them apart?"

Harry and Ron looked away sheepishly, cheeks red in embarrassment. Despite being fully grown men – which was part of the problem – Hermione always knew how to make them feel like naughty little schoolboys again. Even Mrs Weasley couldn't make them feel this low, which was saying something.

"You two are Aurors, for Godric's sake!" Hermione ranted at her two best friends. "But all you did was watch them – practically cheered them on in my books – and say that –" The young woman paused and gasped, as she felt a twinge in her stomach.

Healer Ashton was immediately at her side, Draco close behind. They stood either side of Hermione, supporting her as they lead her to a chair.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Draco asked, as he sat down beside her. His fiancé nodded, though she still looked pale.

"Miss Granger," Healer Ashton soothed, though her voice held a reprimanding tone in it too. "You really shouldn't be out of bed; it's not good for the condition you're in."

Hermione shot a withering look at the Healer. Sure, she got on well with Healer Ashton most of the time, but at the moment she wasn't sure if she could get along with _anybody_. She was just too angry with the three – well, four if she were to include Zabini – dunderheads, who were still smarting over their wounds (physical and emotional).

"I take it the curse worked then," Blaise's drawl broke the tense silence. All eight heads turned to the smirking man; Hermione felt Draco tense beside her. Slowly she put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and began to rub small circles with the pad of her thumb. "I take it that the baby's dead."

Hermione squeezed Draco's shoulder – a warning – but that didn't stop him from lurching out of the seat and head for Blaise again. However, this time he was stopped by Harry and Ron, whom had obviously learnt their lessons.

"He's not worth it," Harry whispered in Draco's ear, grip still firm. "Leave him be, Malfoy, he'll get what's coming to him, don't worry."

Hermione, the pain now gone, turned to face her 'husband'. "Actually, Blaise, you're curse didn't kill the baby at all." Zabini's face was priceless. "It may have de-aged it by a couple of weeks, but our child is still alive and kicking, don't you worry about that." Her smirk was that of a Slytherin; Draco, who had been released by Harry and Ron by now, looked incredibly proud. Narcissa Malfoy was looking smug too.

"But – but – but that's impossible!" Blaise stuttered, his face growing red.

"I'm afraid it's not," Narcissa Malfoy chimed in. "Obviously you weren't aware that the curse takes a few hours – sometimes _days_ – to kill the child."

Blaise was still in a matter of disbelief. "You're lying," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "You have got to be lying! I will not allow that _child_ to live when _she_ shares my name."

"The only reason she shares your name is because you placed her under the Imperius Curse," Draco snarled, though he held himself this time. "And as far as _I'm _concerned Zabini, Hermione isn't even your wife."

"On the contrary, our Wedding Certificate says we are," Blaise stated with smug finality, his composure slowly being regained. "And, as her husband, I will eradicate that abomination inside her womb if I wish to do so. Unfortunately for you, Malfoy, I do, so move out of my way." Blaise made to step forward, reaching for his wand as he did so, only to be stopped by Harry and Ron.

"Don't you even think about it," Draco growled, as he stood in front of Hermione. "I swear to Salazar that if you ever try and kill my child again, then I will _not_ hesitate to kill you."

Blaise released a feral grin. "I'd like to see you try," he sneered, slowly lowering his wand. Before he could slip it away, though, he had been disarmed by Harry. He glared at the two Gryffindor's, his lips curling. "What the hell did you do that for?" Blaise cried, as his hands were magically bound.

"You, Mr Zabini, are under arrest," Ron declared, as he and Harry forced Zabini down the corridor.

"But you've got nothing on me!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Actually, we do," Harry pointed out. "You kidnapped Hermione, cast her under the Imperius Curse _and_ tried to kill her child. If that doesn't mean we can't arrest you, then I don't know what will."

"They'll let me go," Blaise snapped, as he tried to struggle against them. "In a matter of hours I'll be back, and ready to take my _wife_ home!"

"Maybe so," Ron said, though he seemed reluctant to do so. "But at least it'll give Hermione and Malfoy some peace of mind for a while."

"Thanks Weasley," Draco's tone told all that he was incredibly grateful. "Hermione and I really appreciate it."

"That won't change the fact that she's still my wife," Blaise snarled, as he glared at Hermione even more. "And that also won't change the fact I _will_ get rid of her child somehow." He winked at Hermione, causing Draco to press Hermione closer to his body, and sent her a kiss. "See you later, my love," He said, his brown eyes glowing maliciously. Hermione felt physically sick as his eyes roamed her body.

The other witnesses had watched the scene in silence and shock, and now stared at the three walking out of the hospital. Ginny and Colette shared a look at each other, but it was Healer Ashton who voiced the question.

"I thought you said that the two of you were off duty?"

Harry and Ron paused in their walking and looked back at the crowd. "Oh, about that," Ron replied calmly, as they began to make their way towards the lifts again, "We lied."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Come on, who loved Ron in this chapter? I think lying that he was off duty, especially in a circumstance like this, would be something he would totally do. Plus, if you think about it, Zabini wouldn't have been beaten to a pulp otherwise! Anywho, I really hope you liked this chapter. I'm sorry if any of you feel that it's slow going, but it's all part of the build-up, promise!

I'd also like to say that I hope my spur-of-the-moment Author's Note has cleared everything up now. I'm also sorry for those who were hoping for another chapter - unless I'm feeling nice, it's once a week folks. I've got a Blaise/Luna Christmas one-shot coming out soon - currently WIP. It's called "Kissing Away The Nargles", so keep an eye for that.

I will love you forever if you leave me a review! Thank you!

VickytoriaGreengrass


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

As soon as Harry and Ron had dragged Blaise into the lift, and the doors had closed, all the remaining people let out a breath that they had not realised they had been holding. Draco's shoulders visibly relaxed, as did his grip around Hermione; however, he did not let go of her.

With a deep heavy sigh, Healer Ashton, who looked mildly annoyed, was the first person to speak. "Miss Granger," her voice held a harsh tone to it, "I would appreciate it if you and your friends moved back into your room. You see, this is a hospital; we do not accept violence here, especially in the wards. I would guess that your fiancé and _husband_ have disturbed quite a few of our patients." She sent a look at the crowd before. "I wish to have no further trouble from you." She cleared her throat, and gave the group a tight smile. "If you need me, however, do not hesitate to come down the front desk."

Hermione, Draco, Ginny, Narcissa and Colette watched in silence as Healer Ashton walked down the same path as Ron, Harry and Zabini had, before turning left. With an unspoken agreement the remaining five people went into Hermione's hospital room. They all crowded round Hermione's bed, where she had been placed, despite her slight protests, and looked at each other. It was as if no one wanted to speak.

In this time, Hermione looked around at her company. She gave brief smiles to Ginny and Narcissa, before her eyes landed on Ron's girlfriend. "Ah," she exclaimed, with a brilliant smile, "so this is Colette, then." It wasn't a question, because there was no need for an answer; it was obvious who this girl was.

"That's right," Colette answered, giving a small smile of her own. "It's great to meet you, Hermione; I've heard so much about you from Ronald." Hermione's lips quirked slightly as she realised that Colette had said the whole of Ron's first name; no one had done that since Luna had died.

"Not all bad I hope," Hermione joked, feeling lighter than she had in days, though Blaise still lingered on her mind.

"Of course not," Colette replied, her eyes – one green, the other brown – were sparkling. "Though I do remember one story where you were turned into a cat. Care to explain more?"

Hermione felt her cheeks tinge red as Draco, Ginny and Colette – who _had_ heard the story – chuckled. Narcissa was the only one who seemed perplexed. However, despite being quite intrigued, the elder Malfoy didn't ask. Instead, she waited quite patiently for the laughter to end. It seemed to be a long time coming.

As the laughter continued, Hermione took time to study Ron's girlfriend. She seemed nice enough – nicer than Lavender, anyway – and she obviously thought the world of Ron. She wasn't beautiful, but there was something about her appearance – and aura – which made her quite striking. Hermione knew, without a doubt, that Ron had made a good choice.

"What school did you go to?" Hermione asked, as she realised that she had never seen Colette before.

"Hogwarts," Colette replied, brushing a strand of blood-red hair from out of her eyes. "I was in Hufflepuff."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she tried to remember the young woman before her. However, it was useless; the only two Hufflepuff girls that she was aware of were Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Come to think of it, there had only been two Hufflepuff girls in her year at Hogwarts, with neither of them being Colette.

"Were you in a younger year?" Hermione asked, "Sorry, but I just can't seem to recall your face at all."

Colette laughed, her brown and green eyes glowing with mirth. "No, I was two years above you. I was in the same year as Fred and George. In fact, they were the ones who introduced us to each other."

Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly shocked by this revelation. After all, Ron had never been one to go for older women before. Maybe her friend was finally deciding to grow up. Maybe Ron was finally starting to get over Luna, instead of pretending he had and dating girls who he didn't particularly love.

Silence reigned over the group yet again.

"How long do you think you're going to be in here, Hermione?" Ginny asked, as she sat down beside her friend.

"They wish to keep me in overnight," Hermione replied, as she recalled the conversation between herself and Healer Ashton before Draco had been let in. "You know, just for observation. Though they're sure that the child is going to be fine, they are not willing to take any risks. At the moment, I'm to be discharged tomorrow morning after breakfast."

"I'm so glad that you're alright, though, Hermione," Narcissa stated, as she wiped at her eyes and came to the other side of the Gryffindor. "When I heard about your… disappearance, I had never been more frantic." She sent a watery smile at her son's fiancé, but could continue no more.

"We were _all_ worried about you and the baby," Ginny started from where Narcissa had left off, "And then when Draco contacted us about what had happened, and where you were, we all dreaded the worst." Ginny gave her friend an apologetic look. "I know we should have thought positive about the outcome, but we honestly we were going to lose you. _Both _of you."

Hermione, tears falling from her eyes, struggling from her position in the bed, grabbed Ginny into a tight hug. The two friends clung to each other, trying to soothe the other down. Finally, they broke apart.

"Right then," Ginny said, as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I think I should be off. Mum's been looking after James for most of this week, and so we haven't really seen him. I would stay here longer, Hermione, but –"

"Go to your son, Ginevra," Hermione ordered, her voice firm and breaching no argument. "He needs you more than I do at the moment."

"Just Floo me if you need anything, Hermione," Ginny said, as she stood up. "I'd drop everything in a second for you." She pressed a small, friendly kiss to her friend's cheek, before doing the same with Draco.

"Even James?" He joked, as she pulled back. "I wouldn't think that the Ministry would be too happy about that, now, would they?" In return to his comment, Ginny hit Draco on the shoulder, but smiled up at him none the less.

"You know what I mean, Malfoy," she said, her voice stern but still holding a teasing light to it. She turned to Colette. "Are you coming too, or do you wish to stay here a little bit longer?"

"I'll come with you," Colette answered. "It's about time I got back to work anyway, too. Merlin knows what's been happening since I've been gone; knowing me, the Twins have probably blown up the shop by now."

"You work at Weasley's Wizards Wheezes?" Hermione asked, as she started to put two and two together.

"Yep," Colette replied, as she placed her coat back on. "Hence how Ron and I met." She took Hermione's hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you soon, yeah?" Hermione nodded. With that said, both red-heads left the hospital room. Now only Hermione, Draco and Narcissa remained.

"It's great to see you again, Narcissa," Hermione finally said, as both Malfoys sat either side of her. "How have you been?"

"Well, save from killing myself with worry over you, my dear, I've been perfectly fine." The smile she gave the Gryffindor as she said this, let Hermione know that she was telling the truth. "In fact, to be honest, I've never felt happier – and slightly worried. After all, I'm not even fifty and I'm going to be a grandmother." She grimaced slightly, but both Draco and Hermione could see the proud twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, well," Draco said, smirking slightly. "That's what you get for having me at a young age."

"Draco!" Hermione scolded, whilst Narcissa chuckled.

"My dear son, I was older than Hermione when I had you," his mother said, which wiped the smirk off of her son's face immediately. "So, if anyone should be worried about having grandchildren in their early forties, Draco, it's you."

On that note, Narcissa and Hermione burst out into howls of laughter at the horror-struck look on Draco's face. The younger witch found it good to laugh, considering the circumstances, and seemed unable to stop. With a final contented sigh, Hermione was finally able to let her laughter cease.

Silence seemed to be a controlling factor that day, as it reigned around the room once again. However, Hermione didn't seem to mind it , and neither did Narcissa or Draco. All three were content, and happy to be around those they loved.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yeah, this was definitely a filler chapter. However, after the dark chapters, I needed a lighter one… and hey presto, here it is! Also, for those of you who are Blaise/Luna fans I've got a Christmas oneshot up focusing on that pairing called _Kissing Away the Nargles_; if you want, feel free to check it out.

Furthermore, I'd like you to note that I won't be updating next week (Wednesday 26th) as it's over the Christmas period (Boxing Day if you're in the UK) and, obviously, I'm going to spend that day with family.

Reviews would be wonderful and greatly appreciated. I'd just like to take this note to wish you a Merry Christmas. Thank you!

VickytoriaGreengrass


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!

* * *

Blaise's few hours turned out to be more than a few days, and he was now currently in his second week of custody. His influence within the Ministry wasn't as strong as he had first believed, and this had been a massive blow to his ego. He currently sat in his cell licking his wounds clean, all the while scheming and planning his next move. After all, he was not about to let Draco Malfoy win, especially after he had come this far.

Meanwhile, trying to carry on with their lives as much as possible, both Hermione and Draco were unaware that Blaise was still trying to worm his way out of the situation he had placed them all in. Currently, they were too wrapped up in each other, trying to make the best of the weeks to come, to even think of Draco's former friend and Hermione's former lover. Despite this, though, neither the Slytherin nor Gryffindor could ever truly rid themselves of this sense of foreboding.

In silence, it constantly lingered on their minds.

Hermione's pregnancy, however, was going smoothly and there had been no relapses since Blaise had cast the spell on her. She had now reached her fourth week of pregnancy (though it should've been her seventh), which meant she was one week away before her morning sickness should start – again. The young witch was dreading the taste of bile which would soon fill her senses, and she silently hoped that her morning sickness would stop once she reached the thirteenth week stage, and that she was not one of those poor souls who would end up being sick throughout the whole forty weeks.

_Knowing my luck,_ she occasionally thought to herself as her fifth week loomed nearer. _I will be one of those unfortunate souls. After all, they do say that bad luck comes in threes._

Even though Hermione was still in the early stages of pregnancy, already everyone was trying to guess the gender of her and Draco's child. Boys being boys, Harry, Ron, Draco and her father believed that the child would be a boy, whilst Ginny, Colette, Narcissa and her mother believed that the baby would be a girl. Hermione, unlike everyone else, did not have a preference for the gender of her child, and only wished for a healthy pregnancy and safe delivery. This somewhat irked the others slightly as neither group were able to persuade the pregnant woman into preferring a particular gender.

"I was exactly the same, mind," Ginny stated to the group of friends and family one evening as they were at the Potters' for dinner. "Whilst pregnant with James, I didn't really seem to care about what gender he was. All I wished for, like Hermione, was a healthy pregnancy and safe delivery. The gender of James was the last thing on my mind."

"It wasn't the last thing on my mind," Harry joked, running a hand through his jet black hair. "All I could constantly do was root for a son – though a daughter would have been lovely too."

"It must be a woman thing then," Colette spoke up, as she placed her drink back down onto the table. "I was exactly the same before I had Maggie," she explained to everyone.

Maggie, Hermione had found out on a visit from Colette a few days after she had left Saint Mungo's, was Ron's girlfriend's daughter from a previous relationship. From what she could understand, considering she had yet to meet Maggie, she was the pride and joy of Colette's life, as well as being the spitting image of the former Hufflepuff as well. Apparently the only difference between daughter and mum was the colour in one of their eyes; where Colette had green and brown, Maggie had green and blue (the blue eye being from her Father).

"When will I get to meet your daughter, Colette?" Hermione asked, passing Harry her empty plate. "I've heard so much about her, but have not yet had the chance to see her. Do you think she'll be able to come round with you and Ron for dinner next week?"

"I don't see why she can't," Colette replied, pouring herself some more wine. "After all Maggie is with me this weekend. Damien's got some business in America, and therefore won't be around anyway."

"So it's settled then," Hermione beamed across at the woman who was quickly becoming her friend. "Maggie will be joining us for tea next week with you and Ron, and I finally get to see the other girl who has stolen Ron's heart."

The rest of the table laughed at this comment as they all knew how true it was. Even though Ron knew that Maggie had her own father – a father that loved her dearly – he couldn't help but see Colette's daughter as his own.

"It's hard for her not to," Ron admitted, taking Colette's hand in his. "Maggie is just wonderful. You've got her Mum to thank for that," he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss over his girlfriend's lips, and pulled back with his ears burning slightly. Despite being twenty-three years of age, Ron still wasn't one who coped well with minor public displays of affection. He looked around, a 'hands-caught-in-the-cookie-jar' expression plastered all over his face, which all of those around the table found incredibly amusing.

"Oh Weasley," Draco sighed shaking his head. "When are you going to learn?"

Ron's reply to Draco's rhetorical was to turn beet red, and stuff his mouth full of pie so he did not say anything stupid in reply. His reaction caused the mood to lighten even more than it had already, leading to a late night full of fun, friendship and laughter.

All thoughts of Zabini had disappeared.

* * *

The following morning dawned bright and early for Hermione and Draco, the latter having to go work, and still their moods hadn't changed from the night before. Waking up at exactly the same time, with very similar smiles on their faces, the Slytherin and Gryffindor turned round to face each other and kissed one another on the lips.

"Morning," Draco breathed once they had parted, his hand resting delicately on Hermione's face, and running the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. "I take it you slept well?"

With a yawn in his face, Hermione nodded and gave him a satisfied smile. "I slept like a baby," Hermione murmured, her brown eyes hooded with desire as she recalled the night before.

"Tired you out, did I?" Draco asked, drawing her body to his. He felt Hermione nod into the crook of his shoulder. "Thought so," he then said, smirking.

Hermione raised her head at this comment, and glared at him. "You are so _full_ of yourself," she laughed, as she grabbed her pillow and whacked it around the blond man's head. "Won't – you – ever – learn?" Each word had been punctuated by the thump of a pillow hitting Draco's head, and a myriad of giggles from the witch that was causing Draco's head harm.

As Hermione launched herself at him again with the pillow, Draco, with his Seeker reflexes, snatched the pillow out of her hands and chucked it across the room, which meant she would be unable to reach it from the bed. Shocked at how quickly she had been disarmed, Hermione glowered at Draco, her face showing no signs of amusement, before she was flipped over onto her back, therefore causing her to shriek.

"Nice try," Draco murmured into her ear as he pressed feather-light kisses along her jaw line. "But it just wasn't good enough." He ended this sentence by passionately joining his lips with hers, and allowing his hands to roam all over her naked body. They rested lightly on her flat stomach for a couple of seconds longer than anywhere else, before they dipped lower, and into her private area. His soft, teasing strokes soon had her moaning and writhing underneath him.

"I think," Draco moaned into Hermione's ear as he lifted her from the bed, wrapping her legs around his naked waist, and made his way across the room, "that we need to take _this _into the bathroom." Hermione let out a gurgle of agreement, and allowed Draco to carry her into their en suite.

Ten minutes later, the bath run and full of hot steaming water, the couple found themselves lost in a haze of pleasure.

* * *

The letter came during their time in the bathtub, and neither of them noticed the owl until near the end of breakfast. As soon as they saw the Barn Owl, and then the Ministries official stamp which accompanied the letter within its beak, all laughter and conversation ceased. Two pairs of eyes, full of worry, looked once at the bird then back at each other.

"What do you think it could be about?" Hermione's voice was dry.

Draco shrugged, scraped back the legs of his chair, and headed over to where the owl was perched, outside of their house, and let the bird fly in. The Barn Owl landed on the back of the abandoned chair, and dropped the letter on top of Draco's toast. It did not fly away, therefore meaning that the letter would need a reply, but simply stared at the stricken couple. Sensing the uncomfortable silence, it cooed into the air.

Not bothering to close the window behind him, Draco finally went over to where the letter lay and picked it up. He quickly read who it was addressed to, before passing it to Hermione as if he had been burnt.

"It's for you," he addressed Hermione in tone of cold civility, and Hermione could not understand what had changed him so quickly.

"Draco?" Hermione questioned, with her face a picture of puzzlement. "What's wrong?" A quick glance down at the letter, however, told Hermione exactly what had troubled and angered the Slytherin.

On the top line of the envelope, it was addressed to a _Mrs Hermione. J. Zabini_, instead of the requested _Miss Hermione. J. Granger_. Immediately, like Draco, she felt her blood run cold. Did the Ministry not have any _respect_ for the situation Blaise Zabini had put them through?

By just the top line of the envelope, she couldn't honestly say 'no, they did not'.

She turned worried and angry eyes upwards to Draco, who was determinedly not looking her way and currently stroking the owl, swallowing hard. "This is going to be about _him_ isn't it," Hermione choked out, and she turned the sealed letter round to open it up. Her fingers trembled as she opened up the paper latch, and pulled the parchment out.

"How should I know?" Draco replied, his voice emotionless. "I'm not a bloody Seer now, am I?"

Though upset by Draco's harsh reaction, Hermione didn't rise to the argument, instead focusing her attention on the letter and matter at hand. Slowly, she unfolded the letter and read:

_Dear Mrs Zabini_, (Hermione cringed at the hated title)

_Following Mr Blaise Zabini's arrest on the 15th September 2003, based around a series of allegations, a date for his Hearing has been settled for Friday 7th November 2003, at 9:00am in Court Room 9. As the main victim within these accusations against your husband, you're presence is requested so as to testify against the Accused_.

_This letter is also requested to your Partner, Mr Draco. L. Malfoy, as well as anyone else who you feel needs to stand against Mr Zabini. Those who will be at the defence of Mr Zabini, however, are to not be revealed until the day of the trial. This will then prevent these people from being threatened by the Opposition, therefore making them change their statement. _

_Please reply to this owl with a list of all those who will be standing against the Accused, as well as letting us know that you will be attending the Hearing. _

_Wishing that you are well,_

_Yours Sincerely _

_Jasper Hartington _

_Ministry Official_

Hermione slowly let the letter fall from her hands, and float towards the floor. Despite having read the letter word for word, she still could not take any of it in, nor believe that the Hearing had come so quickly. Normally, it took months for this sort of thing.

"Well," Draco's voice snapped Hermione out of her shocked state. "What did it say?"

"Zabini's Hearing date has been set," Hermione's hollow voice answered. "We're to testify against him next Friday, on the seventh, in Courtroom Nine."

"What do you think will happen?" Draco's voice was just as empty as her own. "Will they be able to clear this farce of a marriage, or are you going to have to spend the rest of your life with Zabini?" The bitter hatred he felt for Blaise and the whole situation was evident in both his voice and posture. Draco could not even look at her.

_All it took was just one letter_, Hermione thought as tears fell down her cheeks. _And Zabini has ruined a perfectly wonderful morning_.

"Don't do this to me, Draco," Hermione sobbed, her body shaking. "Don't pull away from me when I need you the most. _Please_!"

"I – I've got to get to work," Draco stuttered, unsure of what to do. Any other time he would've scooped Hermione up in his arms and have tried to soothe her worries away, but in this current situation he just couldn't. Not at this moment, anyway. He was hurting too much himself, as it was. "If I don't go now I'm – I'm going to be – going to be late." He turned on his heel and headed towards the front door, not even bothering to kiss Hermione goodbye.

"_Draco_!" Hermione screamed after him, as he grabbed his jacket and briefcase and opened the front door. "Please don't do this to me! It's not my fault." She was ignored, and the blond stepped out onto the street.

"Goodbye Hermione," he said through gritted teeth, his eyes closed, internally wincing at her cries of pain. "I'll see you when I get back from work."

"I love you," Hermione gasped out, as the door closed with a resounding 'bang'.

Slowly, Hermione's knees buckled and she fell to the ground, a sobbing wreck. She had never felt so hurt or broken or vulnerable before, and she absolutely _hated_ herself for it. Where was the strong Hermione Granger from her Hogwarts days? Where was the Hermione Granger that had survived the Great War?

She curled herself up into a ball, her hands resting on her flat belly, and let out all the pent up emotion she had been feeling since all this had happened. She screamed, cried and cursed, not caring if she could be heard by the outside world or not.

Too lost in her tears, and memories of pain, Hermione didn't hear the front door open, or the presence of another being within her home, until she felt someone kneel down beside her and take her frail body into his arms.

"Oh Gods, Hermione," Draco choked out, as he pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. "Oh Gods, I'm so sorry. _So_ sorry." Hermione felt wet droplets hit her forehead, and she gasped slightly as she realised Draco was crying too. She clung to him even tighter, and buried her head into the crook of his neck. "I love you too," Draco then went on to whisper within her ear. "I love you too."

"I know you do," Hermione tried to get out, though all that she said came out in an inaudible whispered sob. "I know."

For the first time since all this had happened, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy sat in the middle of their kitchen and let out all the pain and anger they were feeling, all the while wrapped up in the arms of each other.

* * *

"You've got a visitor, Zabini," the Guard hissed, as he opened the cell door. "Just as you requested, she came."

Blaise Zabini, still in the clothes that he had been wearing two weeks beforehand, looked up to see a small, squat figure enter his cell. Recognising who it was, the imprisoned Slytherin smiled.

"And just remember, Jerry," the voice simpered, placing a couple of Galleons into the Guard's hand. "This visit, as _I _have requested, is off the record." The last three words were whispered and then followed by a tinkering laugh.

Blaise's grin widened. Yes, this idea would be perfect.

"Of course, Madam," Jerry stated, pocketing the money as he left the cell. "Let me know when you wish to leave, and I will let you out." With that said he closed the door behind him, and headed back to his desk, whistling as he walked.

As soon as both people left in the cell were sure that Jerry was out of hearing distance, the visitor began to speak. "I take it that you wanted to see me, Mr Zabini," the woman simpered as she made her way into a lighter part of the room. The beginnings of a broad, fake smile could be seen against the elder woman's face. "From what I can gather, I'm guessing it is to do with your upcoming trial at the Ministry. Am I correct?"

"Right as always," Blaise answered, knowing that flattery was the best way to go about this. "And, knowing how much you seem to despise Hermione Granger, I thought I could – erm – gain your support. Are you game?"

The visitor before him seemed to consider his proposition for a few seconds before giving him an inquisitive look. "What do you have in mind here?" Blaise knew, without a doubt, that this woman would agree to his wishes.

"Well, Miss Umbridge," he began, as the toad-like Witch conjured a pink, frilly chair to sit on. "How does fifteen thousand Galleons sound?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, Blaise is scheming again… and this time he's brought in the old toad as well. Oh the joys! Hah! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you thought with a review; they are really appreciated. To those who celebrated, I hope you had a lovely Christmas and I wish you all a very Happy New Year! Thank you,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything

* * *

The morning of November the 7th dawned dark, glum and early. Outside the heavens had opened and rain lashed down, bullying the ground with fat water droplets. Large puddles were scattered all over. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. Hermione, who had been watching the storm's progression, flinched at the sound and moved away from the window she'd been looking through.

"Can't you sleep?" A voice slurred from behind her. Turning round Hermione came face to face with Draco, who was lying, still half asleep, in bed with his attention fixed solely on her.

"No," came Hermione's quiet reply, as she wrapped herself up in a dressing gown, and sitting down on the edge of their bed. "I've been up since gone four."

"You should've woken me up," Draco answered, sitting up and shuffling over until Hermione's back was resting against his chest. He pressed a chaste kiss to her neck, before stretching his lips into a small grin. "I could've kept you company."

Hermione turned her head to the side, and slowly stared into Draco's grey eyes. "You needed to rest," she replied, her voice calm and emotionless. "And besides, I wanted to be alone; it gave me time to think."

"Time to think about what?" Draco asked, pulling back slightly.

"Time to think about what would happen if – if the worst occurs," Hermione explained, looking anywhere but at Draco's face. "I mean… what if Zabini and I _can't_ get a divorce?" A few tears slid down her cheeks. "After all, we were married in a _traditional_ Wizard's wedding, which practically screams 'bound for life'."

Hermione felt Draco's grip tighten, as he stiffened behind her. "I guess I'll have to kill him, then." His voice was calm and cool, but Hermione could recognise the underlying threat of promise.

She immediately stiffened.

"You will _not_ be killing anyone, Draco!" Hermione sent her fiancé a pure look of outrage, and pulled herself out of his arms. "Do you want our child to grow up without a father?"

"Of course I don't," Draco snapped back, "which is why _I_ won't be the one to kill him." He sent Hermione a pointed look. "I do have… connections, you know. I wasn't Lucius Malfoy's son for nothing."

"It won't stop you from being the number one suspect though, will it?" Hermione argued, incredulous at how ridiculous Draco was being. Honestly_, murder?_ Sure she hated Blaise Zabini, but to have him dead was going to the extreme. Then again, this was Draco. "Look, at this moment in time, no one will be killing anyone. In fact, no one will be killing anyone, period. We're all adults now, and we'll (eventually) be able to sort something out."

With a reluctant sigh, Draco began to nod his head. "Alright, alright," he acquiesced, "_I_ won't be killing anyone, no matter how much I want to. Besides, as per usual, you're right. I probably would be the first in line for questioning if anything happened to Zabini."

Hermione, a lot calmer now, was still looking at Draco with sick fascination. "What even _possessed_ you to think of something like that, though?" She gasped, brows furrowed.

Draco didn't answer, and the couple to fall into an awkward silence; both were lost in their thoughts about the day which lay ahead. Though neither would admit it – for the sake of the other – both were silently scared of what the outcome could possibly be. In a couple of hours they would either be ripped apart from one another, or rekindling their passionate relationship.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Draco broke the silence by slipping out of bed, and heading into their en-suite bathroom. "I'll be out soon," He said shortly, before closing the door behind him.

Seconds later, Hermione heard the shower running.

* * *

"I'm sorry about earlier," Draco apologised as he and Hermione entered the Ministry of Magic two hours later, and headed for the Wand Inspection queue. "Even though this isn't much of an excuse, I guess the thought of losing you overcame me, and I felt that bumping Blaise off would be the only way to have you again."

Though Hermione's heart softened slightly at Draco's apology and (poor) explanation, she didn't allow him to know that. After all, excuse or no excuse, there had been no need for it, whatsoever – even if she did (silently) wish the same thing. "Apology accepted," Hermione returned, not giving him a second glance. "Let's hope we never have to hear you say something like that again."

"I can't make any promises though, mind," Draco said, hoping that his joking nature would make Hermione smile slightly. "But, alas, I shall try. If my lady doth wish it, then I shall oblige." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, but Hermione didn't snuggle into his embrace like normal. With a sigh, Draco realised how annoyed and scared his fiancé truly was. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't," She replied, giving out a tight smile so to lessen the bite within her words. "I just want to get today over and done with, and then never talk about it again… unless the worst happens." She shrugged Draco's arm off of her back, but then slipped her hand loosely through his.

They finally reached the Wand Inspection desk, and handed their wands over to the guards. Once everything was in order ("As if anything would be wrong with _my _wand," Draco had boasted crassly much to Hermione's embarrassment), they made their way through into the main lobby, and then left for the lifts.

All around, whispers flew.

"Are we meeting everyone else down there?" Draco murmured, as the elevator door closed on the nosey faces, and the machine began to make its way down to the ninth floor.

Hermione, fear clogging up her throat, didn't dare speak; the only reply she gave Draco was a quick nod of the head. As the lift drew nearer, Draco noted how Hermione's grip had become tighter. Though her facial expression didn't show how scared she was, her eyes and body posture did. In a matter of hours, Hermione would either walk out of here smiling or in tears.

Draco couldn't help but hope it would be the former. If he were to lose Hermione today then his entire world – his entire _life_ – would cease to exist. With a small bump, the elevator arrived at its designated level, and the gates slid open.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped out of the elevator with her fiancé close behind. "We're here, Draco," He heard her say, her voice firm and collected. "Come on. Let's get this over and done with."

* * *

"What's _she_ doing here?" Hermione declared, as soon as she laid eyes on their judge. "I was told that it would be a Mr. Chester Fairson and certainly _not_ a Dolores Jane Umbridge, at all." Her eyes caught that of Percy Weasley's, who was to be Scribe for the Hearing, demanding an answer.

In the background Hermione could hear Blaise chuckling with amusement, and the pregnant witch found herself scowling.

"Well, the thing is, Mrs – er – _Granger_," Percy stammered, trying to cover up his mistake. "Mr Fairson, unfortunately, was taken quite ill last night, and Miss Umbridge here, kind woman that she is, offered to take Mr Fairson's role instead."

In the background, Hermione heard Draco, Harry and Ron snort.

"But why weren't we informed of this change?" Hermione demanded to know, feeling all her anger rise up within her. "You had plenty of time to let us know, and yet you didn't!"

"Mrs Zabini," Umbridge simpered from her seat. "I apologise, on behalf of this court _and_ the Ministry, for not owling you with this rather _insignificant_ change." Her toad-like smile broadened. "However, in future cases, I will _personally_ make sure that you are informed." Hermione silently fumed at her patronizing tone. "Is that okay?"

"Yes, Your _Honour_," Hermione gritted out, her knuckles growing white as she clenched her hands together. "That would be greatly appreciated."

The rest of the room were silent, keen to watch how the two women would act. It was obvious that there was a bitter history between the pair.

"Good," Umbridge stated out of the silence. "That's… good." A tense silence had fallen over the room, and many of the occupants – okay, _all_ of the occupants – were staring between the Ministry Official and former Gryffindor. The former Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor quickly cleared her throat. "Excuse me," She crowed causing all the attention to fall back to her. "But if you'd be so kind, can we begin?"

"Certainly, Miss Umbridge," Draco drawled before Hermione could snap at the Judge again. He caught his fiancé's eye, a silent warning to remind Hermione of whom they were dealing with. He hated this as much as Hermione did, but knew better than cause unnecessary trouble.

Well, only where the Ministry was concerned anyway.

With a sharp nod from Umbridge, a small wizard rose up in the silent court. He looked around, acknowledging the judge and both sides, before opening his mouth to speak. "Witches and Wizards of the jury, today we are here to decide whether the allegations Mrs Hermione Zab – I mean, Miss Hermione Granger has accused Mr. Blaise Zabini of performing are true or not." He paused for breath, and then continued. "Today we will hear stories from both sides, _whilst_ under the influence of Veritaserum, as well as those who were – for lack of a better word – witnesses to the event." Another pause followed, allowing everyone in the room to digest the words which had been spoken. "All of the above," the Wizard continued after a few seconds, "has been agreed by both the opposition and proposition."

Finally, he fell silent and sat down again. For Hermione, Draco, Blaise and everyone else within the room, this was a sign that the questioning was about to start.

"Now," Dolores Umbridge cried, after a few seconds of scanning the room. "If you'd be so kind, would Mr. Blaise Zabini take to the stand?"

* * *

"The story's quite simple really," Blaise started after he'd taken a few drops of Veritaserum, and had been asked to reiterate his side of the story. "For the past year or so, Hermione and I had been having an affair." Gasps of outrage and surprise echoed through the room, and Hermione's eyes bugged at the blatant lie. Besides her, Draco stiffened. "The day she found out she was pregnant – and, ever so unfortunately, with Draco Malfoy's child – she immediately came to me, begging for my help." He paused and turned his head to where Hermione sat, shaking with fury. For a brief second his lips twitched upwards in what many took as a loving smile; for Hermione though, it was a small flicker of triumph.

"He's lying," Ginny hissed quietly to her husband, who looked ready to kill Zabini, and Colette. "Somehow, he's been able to overrule the influence the Veritaserum should have on him."

"But how?" Colette whispered, sending her boyfriend's sister a worried look. "As far as I know, there isn't a cure for those put under the influence of Veritaserum."

"We have to stop this Hearing," Ginny said, as Blaise continued with his statement. "Something has happened to ensure that Blaise wins."

"We _can't_ though," Colette replied, her face horror-struck. "We've got no proof. The jury – and the Ministry for that matter – would just think we're doing it to stall Hermione's testimony." She closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry Gin, but we're going to have to sit this one through."

"It was on Hermione's request that I cast the Abortion Curse on her," Blaise stated, his voice loud and clear. "She said – and I quote – that 'she didn't want a Malfoy's spawn' and, as this kid wouldn't have been mine, I happily obliged." Hermione felt physically sick at how easily Blaise lied, and twisted the court around his little finger. She dared a glance at Draco, who looked livid. "It wasn't until the pain took affect that she realised how dangerous the curse was. Immediately she begged me to stop it, but I refused; she couldn't keep changing her mind. That was when she fled back to Malfoy and, by the looks of it, concocted up these lies to make it seem like I was the bad guy in all of this."

The room was deathly silent; people were either staring at Hermione or Blaise. To say that everyone was shocked would've been an understatement.

"That will be all, Mr Zabini," Umbridge simpered. "You may return to your seat." As Blaise did this, she focused her attention on Hermione. "Mrs _Zabini_, if you could be so kind, would you please come to the stand?"

Slowly, Hermione stood up and made her way over to where Blaise had been standing a few minutes beforehand. With shaking hands she took the second vial of Veritaserum and downed it in one, before turning to face Umbridge and the jury.

"I do take it that you're Mrs Hermione _Jane_ Zabini, then?" Umbridge asked, as she folded her hands together, and leant over the table slightly.

"By accordance to this marriage, I am Mrs Hermione _Jean_ Zabini," Hermione said, the potion forcing her to answer truthfully. "However, as far as _I'm_ concerned, I'm still Hermione Jean Granger, and fiancé of Draco Malfoy." She paused and sent a pointed look at Blaise. "I am also pregnant with Draco's child, and happily so."

Whispers flew around at this admission, and many of those in the jury felt torn. Who were they to believe?

"Erase everything after 'Zabini', Mr Weasley," Umbridge ordered, sliding her gaze to Percy who was busy scribbling everything down. Hermione glared at the elder woman. "Everything after that is irrelevant information."

Gasps of outrage were heard from Draco, who looked ready to kill their former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. She could just see Harry and Ron holding him back, but they looked just as angry.

"Excuse me, Miss Umbridge," Hermione gritted out politely, causing the toad to look in her direction again. "But I feel that this piece of information _is_ relevant to the case because it goes to show that –"

"Mrs Zabini," Umbridge snapped, cutting the younger witch in mid-sentence. "Please be quiet. I have asked for the last part of your comment to be removed from the records, and I expect you to respect that decision. In this court, what _I _say goes and no one can change or challenge that matter." She watched in silent satisfaction as Hermione grudgingly agreed with her. "Now, like Mr Zabini has so kindly done for us, would you tell us your side of events?" The grin she gave Hermione was patronising to say the least. "After all, you deserve a chance too."

And so Hermione did, starting from the minute she had woken up on the 13th of October. "I must've arrived back at mine and Draco's home around half past four," Hermione said, as her day came to an end. "I was just sliding my keys into the lock when a shadow fell behind me." She paused and swallowed the lump that had built up in her throat. "Naturally, I had thought it was Draco. However, upon turning round I saw that it wasn't my fiancé at all; in fact, it was Zabini. Blaise then raised his wand at me, stunned me and I then came around four days later to find that I was… _married_ to him."

"So you have no recollection of what happened between the time you were supposedly _stunned_ by Mr. Zabini, and the time you woke up in his bed?" Hermione shook her head in answer to Umbridge's question. "Hmm… very interesting," She flicked through a few notes on her desk, before speaking again. "How can we be sure that you're not lying? For all _we_ know, Mrs Zabini, you could've gone and modified your memory to _make_ it seem that this is the story of events."

Hermione scoffed. "Excuse me?" She cried, her brown eyes blazing. "What on earth makes you say that?"

"Sudden memory loss is normally a side affect from the Obliviation Spell," Umbridge explained to Hermione and the people around her. "_And _the fact that you were able to marry Mr. Zabini here – when the spell used in a Wizarding Ceremony detects if you're forced or not – shows that you _must_ have been willing."

Murmurs of agreement flew through the room and Hermione stood in the centre of it all, angry and upset with how easily Umbridge – and Blaise, for that matter – had manipulated them. The only group of people who hadn't fallen for Zabini's lies, were those who'd been by her side since day one.

"I was _not_ willing!" Hermione cried, outrage pulsing through her veins. "Though I may not have definite proof, I can tell you now that Zabini had me under the Imperius Curse!"

"Like you said, Miss Granger," Umbridge's grin grew bigger. "You have no proof, so we cannot look into it." She glanced quickly at a list of names. "Now, would you please step down to allow Mrs Eugenie Zabini a chance to speak?"

* * *

The past four hours had been a gruelling process, where everyone from both sides had been questioned over and over again. Hermione, who had to keep leaving the room due to the return of her morning sickness, was feeling exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get this over and done with. The sooner she could leave court and the Ministry, the sooner she could get home and put her feet up.

Currently, the man who had opened up the Hearing was making his closing his speech before Umbridge and the jury went out to make their final decision. The decision, unfortunately, could take up to another two hours – but at least it meant she could leave this God forsaken place for a little while.

"… remember to make your decision wisely," the man said, sending pointed looks at Umbridge and the Jury. "Make sure that favouritism and personal opinion are unable to fall into the mix; look at the facts and the notes been made." He looked around the court once more. "You may go," he said before sitting down again.

Slowly the jury and Umbridge rose from their seats, and made their way through a small door at the other end of the courtroom. Hermione watched them go, bile rising in her throat.

"Please make the right decision," she whispered, rising from her seat and grasping Draco's hand. "Please may they get this marriage annulled."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Tense chapter, eh? I hope it was believable. Yet again, I've left it on another cliffhanger – sorry about that! Well, not really, just gotta say that to appease you readers! Also, really sorry for the belated update (only by two days mind); I'm back at Uni now and things are massively hectic! I should warn you that updates may become a bit further apart from here on in (though not by much), as Uni is my priority (sorry lovelies) and will come first.

Please let me know what you thought with a review! Thank you,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Umbridge, the shadow of a smile on her face, walked back into the courtroom followed closely by the jury. Hermione watched them sit down in the seats they had previously occupied, nervously biting her lip. She turned her head to take a look at Blaise…

He was already looking at her.

He had a smirk on his face that sent chills down Hermione's spine, and was knowingly gazing into her eyes. Hermione stared, transfixed, unable to look away. He raised both his eyebrows at her and then turned his attention to Umbridge.

Hermione felt the coldness intensify, and she quickly turned her head too. She looked down at the ground, holding her breath in. The feeling that Blaise knew something lay heavy in the pit of her stomach, and it frightened her more than anything.

If this marriage didn't get annulled…

Her heart started to race at the thought, and she felt the tears come to her eyes. Just as one lonely tear fell down her cheek, she felt somebody grab her hand and hold onto it tightly. She quickly looked up to see Draco smiling at her – or at least trying to. His lips were curved but there was a pinched tightness about them. It was his eyes, however, that held what he was truly feeling.

He was scared, just like she was.

"It's going to be okay," Draco said quietly, inhaling a deep breath. "_Everything_ is going to be okay."

Hermione wanted to smile back but she couldn't. Instead she just looked into his grey eyes and said the only thing that mattered: "I love you, Draco."

Draco leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

Hermione had no time to respond or return the gesture, because at that moment Umbridge cleared her throat, wanting the attention of the courtroom. Everybody turned to look at her, taking a seat back in their chairs.

"After many discussions and much thought, the jury and I have come to our final decision." She paused, her wide mouth peeling back into a feral grin. Her brown eyes were alight with an almost evil satisfaction. "With the case of Mr. Blaise Zabini and Miss Hermione Granger," she continued, "we have decided to _not_ annul the marriage."

There was a sudden yell of outrage from various people surrounding Hermione, the most vocal of them being Harry and Ron. Hermione's breath hitched in the back of her throat as she stared down at the table, her mind numb from everything except Umbridge's words, which were on constant replay inside her head.

She looked to Draco, to find him staring at Umbridge with an unreadable, blank expression on his face. Hermione licked her lips nervously, and gave Draco's hand a squeeze.

"Draco…"

She spoke his name softly, so that it was only audible to him. Other than his eyes moving slightly at the sound of her voice, letting Hermione know that he had heard her, he continued to remain in an emotionless and blank state.

Umbridge cleared her throat again, smacking her gavel on the desk. "Order!" She cried, raising her voice over the shouts of protest. "I will have order!" The room slowly grew quiet, as people unwillingly obliged Umbridge's request and sat back down in their seats again, waiting for her to continue. "Now, please bare this in mind; we didn't come to this decision lightly. However, after looking over the case and the evidence, we had no choice other than to side with Mr Zabini. We –"

"You liar!" Everybody turned their heads to find Harry on his feet, pointing his finger at Umbridge. "He's guilty and you know it!"

"Mr Potter," Umbridge's seemingly sweet tone did nothing to hide the danger dripping between her words. "Just because you saved the Wizarding world from The Dark Lord does not give you the right to stand up in the middle of my courtroom and insult me. Whilst this is an understandable reaction, your behaviour holds no excuse." Harry said nothing. Instead he just glared back at Umbridge. "Now, if you'd be so kind, Mr Potter, please take back your seat, or else I will have you arrested."

"Come on, mate," Ron said, grabbing a hold of Harry's jacket and forcing him down into his seat. "You won't be much help to Hermione when you're in a cell in Azkaban."

Harry sighed and sat down. "We can't let her do this, Ron," he hissed, his ears still ringing with anger. "Zabini's guilty; anybody with eyes can see that."

"Harry, there's nothing we can do," Ron whispered back as Umbridge continued to talk. "As much as I hate to say it, but the old toad's word is final."

"With the case of Mr Blaise Zabini and Mrs Hermione _Zabini_, we most certainly reviewed the evidence carefully. As a result of there being little evidence, the jury and I quite readily came to the conclusion that Mr Zabini did not fake the marriage. The fact that Mrs Zabini cannot seemingly remember anything is proof enough that this marriage is real. Furthermore, it also goes to show that she is nothing more than a heartless liar."

Hermione felt her cheeks burn at Umbridge's words, and the urge to defend herself at this statement boiled through her. Just as she was about to stand to her feet, she felt Draco grab her arm and hold her down. She glared at him. His gaze was still determinedly fixed on their old professor.

She quickly pulled her arm from Draco's grasp and got to her feet. "I am _not_ a liar –"she began, before being forced to sit down again by her fiancé.

"Hermione – sit," Draco snapped as she struggled against him. A quick elbow in the ribs had him releasing her, and the bold Gryffindor got back on her feet.

"Anybody here in this courtroom would be able to tell you that I am _not_ a liar!"

"Mrs Zabini, you need to take a seat," Umbridge warned, eyes thinning into slits.

"My name isn't Zabini!" She yelled. "It's Granger! Hermione Jean Granger!" Hermione pointed over towards Blaise with her index finger. "He's the liar!"

"Mrs Zabini, you need to take a seat now, or I will have you removed from the room!"

"What about my baby?" Hermione yelled clutching her stomach. "He's already tried to kill it once!" Hermione pointed over at Blaise. "Who's to say he won't do it again?"

"I say so," Umbridge snapped, her own temper flaring. "And so does the court. If you were to sit down, and allow me to finish, you would know this."

"Hermione…" Draco's soft plea had the tears finally falling freely from her eyes. Succumbing to her sorrow, she numbly obliged her fiancé's request. "Hermione, you need to sit down. Please."

"Seeing as Mr Zabini has already tried to harm your child, the jury and I have come up with a way to keep your baby safe," Umbridge continued, addressing the whole courtroom. "If any more harm comes to this child in the hands of Mr Zabini, then the court will rejoin and we will take another look at getting this marriage annulled." At this, she turned and gave Blaise a very pointed look.

Hermione bit her lip, and shook her head. "That's not enough," she said under her breath, as the tears continued to run down her cheeks.

"This case is now concluded. Court adjourned." Umbridge smacked her gavel on the desk one last time, before quickly making her way out of the room. Everybody else soon began to follow.

Hermione and Draco slowly stood up, both turning to face each other. "It's not fair," Hermione muttered, voice hoarse. "This isn't right."

Draco tried to force a smile at Hermione, but it was weak and the edge of his lips twitched from the strain. Cupping the sides of her face, he kissed her forehead. Hermione closed her eyes as Draco's lips touched her skin, and allowed the tears to continue down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his body and rested her head on his chest.

"It doesn't matter," Draco said softly. "I love you, and no stupid law changes that."

"Hermione…"

The Gryffindor opened her eyes to see Ginny, Harry, Ron, and even Collette standing before them.

"Hermione, it's going to be okay." Ginny said kindly, brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Hermione slowly pushed herself away from Draco to embrace all her friends. "It's going to be okay," Ginny said again, trying to convince herself rather than Hermione.

"I don't know Gin," Hermione said sadly, reaching for Draco's hand. "I just can't see a positive side to this."

"Oi, Malfoy, get your hands off of my wife!" Everybody turned their heads to see Blaise walking towards them with a smug look on his face. Following closely behind him were Pansy, Theodore Nott, and Blaise's mother. "You have no right to touch what's rightfully mine."

"I'll give you what's rightfully yours," Draco snarled, letting go of Hermione and charging at the dark-skinned man. Harry and Ron quickly grabbed hold of Draco's shoulders, and held him back.

"Let me go!" Draco growled, thrashing to get out of Harry and Ron's grip.

Blaise let out a chuckle, just standing out of Draco's reach. He turned to Hermione.

"Now, as for you, _Mrs Zabini_, I'm guessing you'll want time to pack before you relocate to Zabini Manor?" Hermione glared at him. "I'll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, possibly around lunchtime. Twenty four hours should be enough time, right _darling_?" His smirk grew as he moved closer to her, and brought up a hand to graze her cheek.

Hermione quickly stepped back.

_Smack_.

The sound of skin hitting skin in lightning speed echoed across the walls, as Hermione's hand made contact with Blaise's cheek. He stared at her, brown eyes wide, completely caught off guard at Hermione's surge of violence. "You're a bastard, Zabini," she sneered. Recovering himself, Blaise glared back.

After a few short minutes of unbearable silence, Blaise cleared his throat. "I'll see you tomorrow then." With one final glare, Blaise quickly turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, followed by his three companions.

As soon as the door slammed closed, Ron and Harry released their grip on Draco. He immediately wrapped his arms around Hermione. "Come on, love," he said in her ear. "Let's go home."

* * *

Draco and Hermione arrived back at their flat in silence.

They held onto each other tightly, but no words were said. Nothing could be said.

They had just lost each other for the rest of their lives. Neither of them wanted to talk about it, even though it was on both of their minds.

"I'll – I'll go make us some tea," Draco said, releasing his grip on Hermione's hand and making his way towards the kitchen.

Hermione nodded, slowly making her way towards the living room. As she entered, her eyes fell on the photographs lining the walls and the fireplace. She smiled despite herself as she approached them, looking up into the happy faces of her family and friends. She walked silently by the photos, the tips of her fingers caressing the bottom of the frames, only pausing when she reached the fireplace.

Before her was one of her favourite pictures.

It was of her and Draco. Both of them were smiling up at the camera; they were sitting out on the porch of Harry's house, snuggled up on the stairs that led down into the garden. Draco was sitting straight, leaning against the banister, while Hermione's legs lay over the top of his, her body resting against his side. Draco's hands rested on her legs, while one of Hermione's was wrapped around his shoulder and the other rested on his chest. They would stare at the camera, then turn and look at each other with smiles on their faces.

The sequence then repeated.

Hermione let out a tiny, sad laugh as a tear ran down her cheek. She brought her hand up to the picture and rested it next to Draco.

"I love you…"

She didn't know how long she stood there, but next thing she knew was the sound of Draco's voice as he called her name: "Hermione, are you okay?"

She slowly turned her head to see Draco approaching her, two cups of tea in his hand.

"Yeah," Hermione breathed, forcing a smile. He forced one back, handing her a cup of tea when he reached her. "Thanks," She spoke softly, the sadness starting to take over.

Draco wrapped an arm around Hermione and kissed the side of her head before looking at the same picture as she. "I love this picture," Draco said, running his hand down it just like Hermione had. "It was… easy then."

Hermione nodded. "This isn't fair," she sighed, making her way to the sofa. She sank down and looked into the murky depths of the warm, brown liquid, eyebrows furrowed.

"I know," Draco said softly as he joined her. Hermione brought her legs over his and rested her head on his chest, just like she did in the picture.

"We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together." Hermione's fingers slowly circled round the rim of her mug. "Blaise wasn't supposed to do this, he wasn't meant to come back. He wasn't meant to tear everything to shreds."

"He didn't tear everything," Draco said quietly, staring off into the ashes of the fire.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking up at Draco.

Draco slowly looked down at her, a small smile on his face: "This." He spoke softly, placing a hand on Hermione's lower stomach. "He can never take our child away from us."

Hermione smiled back at Draco, and placed her hand on her stomach as well, directly next to his. "It's not the same though," she stated sadly.

"We would have raised it together," Draco said, nodding his head in agreement.

The perfect child, indeed. And even though we will be apart, our baby is going to be all that, and more. I know they will. Intelligent, brave, kind…"

"Try not to turn it into that much of a Gryffindor, Hermione," Draco said, pulling a small face. "Believe it or not, I still have a Slytherin reputation to uphold."

"Or not," Hermione quipped, letting out a laugh. "We both know you're not really a Slytherin at heart, Draco. That much became obvious after you and – and Blaise changed sides during the war. Besides," Hermione remarked, quickly changing the subject. "Our child will be placed in the House that the Sorting Hat sees fit; they won't have to listen to us. We'll still love them all the same."

"They're going to be brilliant, no matter what," Draco added. "Just like you."

Hermione smiled up at Draco. She then licked her lips and turned her head so it was facing the pictures that lined the walls again.

"We could have spent the rest of our lives together doing whatever we wanted and watching our child grow to become the witch or wizard we always dreamed of raising." They sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's presence, until Hermione spoke again. "We could have spent every day doing exactly what we're doing right now."

"Just lying together on the couch and talking?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said in a sad voice. "Exactly…"

Draco gave Hermione a kiss on the top of her head. "I like the sound of that," he murmured, sinking lower into the sofa.

In the end, the couple stayed on the sofa for the rest of the night, eventually falling asleep by the warm fire. Neither of them thought of Blaise, the weeks gone by or the weeks ahead; neither of them thought of the struggles that they were going to face for the rest of their lives. Instead, they lay there in each other's arms and thought of each other. For just that one evening, the nightmare that consumed them vanished, and they slept peacefully, content to be in each other's arms.

For that night, nothing mattered but them…

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, I'm just going to keep this short and sweet before I'm met with an onslaught of people hating on me. I'm sorry, but I regret nothing. Do you honestly think I was going to let Hermione out of this marriage _that_ easily? Man, I hope not. There's definitely a lot more to come.

I should also add that this chapter (as well as chapters 11 and 12) were written by alosercanwin. However, I have edited them slightly, and a couple of things (very small things, mind) have changed. Anywho, please review! They're great and really encouraging. Thank you,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

Through the gap in the curtains, Hermione could feel the late morning sun beating against her face, yet she refused to open them. The warm body pressed against her back was breathing normally telling her that Draco was awake, and was simply waiting for her to wake up too.

The time they had left together was slowly slipping away.

She sighed quietly, feeling the blond tense as he recognised her conscious state. She cuddled closer towards him, nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck. She felt his hand run down her back.

With another sigh, she finally opened her eyes, and looked up at Draco. "Tell me it's not morning already," she whispered. Draco didn't respond, instead he just stared back at Hermione sadly. Slowly, Hermione brought her hand up and rested it on Draco's cheek. "This isn't goodbye," she spoke softly. "It can't be."

"It's almost eleven. Zabini will be here soon," Draco observed, ignoring Hermione's previous words. "You're not even packed yet."

"I don't care."

"You should. Who knows what will happen if Zabini doesn't get his way." Draco pushed Hermione's legs off him and successfully got out from under her. He then stood up, and made his way towards the kitchen. "Do you want some breakfast?" His voice was eerily calm, and suddenly very unfeeling.

"Draco," Hermione began softly, watching as he stopped. His back still faced her, taught with a suppressed myriad of emotions. "Please, don't be like this."

The room was silent.

Draco's answer was to continue walking.

Forcing the tears back, Hermione retreated to their room to begin packing.

* * *

An hour later, two bags magically floating behind her as she carried the third, Hermione made her way back down the stairs. Placing them by the front door, she then walked into the kitchen where she found Draco sitting at the table. A forgotten cup of coffee lay to one side.

Hermione watched him as he sat without moving. His head was lowered to the table, resting on tightly curled fists; his eyes were closed and his knuckles were white. Hermione studied him closer and bit back a sob when she noticed his slightly damp cheeks.

Draco had been crying.

Her heart broke at the sight of him. It was raw, it was real, it was _excruciating_.

She took a step towards him.

His head shot up. Dark, granite grey and bloodshot eyes stared back at her.

He cleared his throat and stood up, not sure what to say.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak. "Draco, I –"

She was cut off by the sound of the doorbell.

Her heart skipped a beat.

No, not yet. It wasn't time.

The doorbell rang again.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Draco's voice was cold, hollow and eerily calm.

Hermione flinched at Draco's empty tone.

This time several rings echoed through the house, followed by a loud bang on the door. Hermione flinched at the brutal sound, her ears ringing.

Draco grinded his jaw together, face impassive.

"I love you, Draco." Blocking out everything else, Hermione launched herself at the motionless man, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

One second…

Two seconds…

Three seconds…

Four…

Five seconds past, before Draco finally relented and curled his own arms around the small and frightened brunette. "I love you too."

Slowly, they pulled away from each other, both letting out shaky breaths that neither of them knew they were holding. Draco leaned down and pressed his lips against Hermione's for one last ti –

Another heavy hammer on the door broke the moment, and they pulled apart, fully aware of what that sound meant: Their time was over.

Draco grimaced. "I better answer it before he breaks down the door."

Hermione nodded slowly, allowing Draco to peel himself away from her to answer the door. She quickly pulled herself together before going to follow him; she wasn't going to give Zabini the satisfaction of knowing how much emotional pain she was actually in.

* * *

"About time you answered the bloody door," Blaise snapped as he attempted to step him side.

Draco pushed him back, "I didn't invite you in," the flaxen-haired man sneered, grey eyes darkening even more.

"My _wife_ is in there, Malfoy." Blaise's tone was vicious and taunting.

"Your _wife _will be ready to go when she's done getting all her stuff together," Draco snapped, not rising to Zabini's bait. "There's no need for _you_ to come in here at all."

"Perhaps I wanted to assist _my_ wife."

"She doesn't need your help, Zabini. Besides, you've done enough."

Blaise glared back. "I would watch your attitude, if I were you, Malfoy; a mouth like that might land you a pretty little cell in Azkaban. One could only image what it's like raising a child from prison. It might just be enough to send the custody of your child into the arms of the man who married the bastard's mother."

Draco took a step towards Blaise, daring him with his eyes to strike back. "Don't _ever_ call my child a bastard again, Zabini."

"Keep that hole in your face closed, and your wand in your pocket, and maybe I wouldn't have to." He watched as Draco's hand itched for the wand he knew lay in his trouser pocket. He smirked. "Go ahead, Malfoy," Zabini leered. "I _dare_ you."

"Draco, _no_!" Hermione hissed, grabbing a hold of his hand and forcing him behind her. The look she sent Blaise was positively scathing. His brown eyes glinted with silent mirth. "What good would it do?" She asked him.

Draco remained silent, glowering at the man behind her.

Hermione continued to gaze at him, until his eyes moved and softened under her golden gaze. "I love _you_, Draco," Hermione soothed, reaching up and placing her lips softly on his.

For a few seconds it remained innocent and chaste; then, in a sudden fervour to taste as much of her as possible, Draco deepened the kiss into a passionate embrace; lips, teeth, tongue and all.

It was a kiss of desperation, of unspoken words, of final goodbyes.

"I think it's time for us to go, _dear_," Zabini spat, destroying the moment. His face was shadowed with disgust and anger, his lips pursed so tightly that it made his high cheekbones look sharper than normal.

Breaking their kiss, Hermione turned to glare at Blaise. She then turned back to the blond, placed a hand on his chest and gave him one last small, sad smile. "Goodbye," she said in a choked whisper, before reluctantly pulling away. The pain and emptiness she felt was unbearable.

"Goodbye," Draco echoed. Once more, his voice was hollow and void of any feeling.

Hermione grabbed her bags, shoving one into Zabini's hands, and started out the door. Blaise immediately grabbed hold of her arm, and began to walk down the road to the apparition point, forcing Hermione to follow.

She wanted to look back, she wanted to see Draco one last time, but kept looking forward. To look back now would break her resolve, and she couldn't do that.

She had to be _strong_.

Just as they reached the apparition point, she heard Draco call her name. "Hermione! Wait!"

She quickly spun around to see Draco disappear from the door frame then reappear within seconds. When she saw him approaching her, she dropped her bags, snatched her arm from Blaise, and walked to meet him halfway. When they were right in front of each other, Hermione saw what Draco was carrying. She gasped as fresh tears fell from her eyes.

"Our picture." Hermione sent him a watery smile.

"It's your favourite," Draco stated, looking down at himself and Hermione curled up on the Potter's garden steps.

"It is."

"I – I charmed it so it doesn't move anymore. I've never really seen a muggle picture before, but I like it."

"Draco –"

"Your eyes sparkle when you look at the camera lens, and I can tell that you're happy. And me…" He had to pause to catch his breath. Draco's heart was racing to a tenfold. His barriers had crumbled the minute Hermione had stepped out of the door, and he no longer cared to hide his real feelings. "I love you so much, Hermione, and this picture is proof of that. I want you to take it. Here."

"Draco, I –"

"Take it. And whenever – and whenever _he_ makes you unhappy, just look at this picture and remember _us_. Remember how much I love you."

Hermione crashed her lips once more onto Draco's and he kissed her back, pulling her closer towards him as they did so. She ran her hands through his hair as he grabbed her waist. They kissed passionately, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment, in each other's arms, forever and forget that any of this ever happened…

Their kiss was short lived.

Blaise, who had watched until then in angry silence, tore them apart by grabbing onto Hermione's wrist and pulling her back towards her suitcases. Draco had just enough time to put the frame in Hermione's hand before she was out of his reach.

With a flick of his wand, Blaise made Hermione's suitcases disappear, still dragging her back to the apparition point. As soon as they were beyond the anti-apparition wards of the street, Blaise quickly apparated the two of them away.

Draco watched them disappear with a _pop_.

He felt numb. He felt drained. He felt empty.

She was gone.

* * *

Hermione managed to escape Blaise's grip the second her feet touched the floor; her legs quickly gave way from the unexpected apparition and she began to vomit what was left in her stomach from the night before. After a couple heaves, she finally stood up, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

"I don't think I've ever seen such an experienced witch vomit after apparating," Blaise said, smirking at Hermione.

The brunette glared at him. "Maybe if _you_ hadn't dragged me away so forcefully, I wouldn't have vomited."

Blaise laughed. "If you hadn't started sucking face with Malfoy, I wouldn't have had to drag you."

"I'm allowed to suck face with whoever I please. I do –"

"Not anymore," Blaise spat, interrupting the brunette witch. "You're _my_ wife now, Hermione. The only person you'll be kissing from now on is _me_." They glared at each other for a couple of minutes until Blaise finally started heading up towards the Manor.

Hermione sighed, and then reluctantly followed him towards her new home. They approached the front door and Blaise pushed it open, revealing a foyer with a ceiling that rose a couple stories and a huge walkway. Hermione figured you could fit The Burrow in this room alone. As she looked around, her face twisted in disgust at the gaudiness of it all, she heard Blaise laugh.

"What?"

"I see you like it."

Hermione scoffed in disgust.

"It'll grow on you," Blaise said, his smirk dropping to a frown. "Come, I'll give you a proper tour. You left in such a rush last time." He didn't wait for Hermione to answer, and walked on quickly.

He showed her the whole house; from the basement all the way to the top floor balcony, from the greenhouse to the library. After taking her everywhere, he finally led her down a hallway and opened the last door on the right. He held the door open for Hermione and ushered her inside.

"And _this_," Blaise declared, brandishing his arms in a flamboyant manner. "Is your room." He paused, allowed his wife to enter, and smirked. "For now."

Hermione spun round to face him. "What do you mean?" She took a step back at the sudden close proximity.

"Did you actually think I wouldn't want to share a bed with my wife?" He asked in a light whisper, his breath warm on her face.

"I'm not sleeping anywhere near you Zabini, so just forget it." She spat.

"You're my wife now, Hermione. You'll do as I say. Besides, it's not like we've not shared a bed before."

Hermione blanched at his reference to their past relationship. "You can't force me to do anything," she cried, her defiance clearly etched on her face.

"Actually, I can." He said as he continued to leer at her. "To make the most of our… _situation_, Hermione, you'll be a good wife and do exactly what I say," He paused and looked at the frame still in her hands. "You can start by getting rid of that picture."

Hermione immediately pressed the photograph protectively against her chest. "I'm not getting rid of it."

Blaise laughed. "_Right_," he said, eyes glinting with malice. "Just like you won't sleep with me?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I thought you were intelligent, Hermione," he sighed, before grinning once more. "You do realise that I could quite easily have your heart with one simple potion, don't you?"

Hermione laughed back. "Amortentia doesn't create real love, you idiot. It creates powerful infatuations, obsessions. Not love, never love."

"I'd rather have that then nothing," Blaise snapped, his anger growing. "At least you'd forget about Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head. "You're just wasting your time, Blaise." The look she gave him was pitying. "I love Draco. No potion's ever going to change that."

Hermione watched as his anger grew to its peak. She stared back at him, waiting. No words came.

Blaise stepped towards Hermione quickly, ripping the picture from her hands. She watched, almost in slow motion, as he put the frame up in the air before slamming it to the ground. She heard the frame break and looked down to see broken glass and a bent up picture.

One stray tear ran down Hermione's cheek.

"There is no more Malfoy in your life anymore, so if I were you I'd forget that he ever existed." His voice was vicious and full of venom. "You have two days. In two days, you _will_ share a bad with me and that's final!" The walls shook as Blaise slammed the door.

Hermione fell to her knees before the picture.

She lifted the back of the frame up, pushed aside the broken glass and picked up the picture. Her eyes studied the front for a few minutes, before she turned it over. In Draco's neat scrawl, there lay a note.

_Hermione,_

_We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere. Be strong, Granger, and know that I love you. This is not the end. We'll be together again someday, I promise._

_Draco _

Hermione calmed the steady flow of tears, and took in a heavy breath. Draco was right; she needed to stay strong, this wasn't the end.

"Reparo," Hermione whispered, and she watched as the frame fixed itself before replacing the photo back inside.

Standing up, she made her way to the bed, not really taking in her temporary accommodation. With a hand on her stomach and the other gripping the picture she slowly fell into a much needed sleep, after the exhausting events of the day so far. As she embraced the darkness, a small smile played on her face as she came to meet a pair of dark grey eyes.

* * *

The sudden knock at the door almost sent Draco falling from his chair at the kitchen table. He jolted from his stooped pose, knocking over his mug of coffee. The sound of breaking china echoed over the deadened room, and the scolding liquid flew in all directions, running all over the floor and even splashing onto his trousers. Draco hissed as the hot drink seeped onto his leg and burnt his skin.

A second knock came.

The young blond man grabbed the cloth from the kitchen counter, and began to mop up his coffee in clumsy haste. In his currently state, the thought to use his wand and clean up the mess hadn't even crossed his mind.

The third knock was louder and full of impatience. A sneer pulled at his features. All he wanted was some peace.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," he grumbled, dumping the soggy cloth into the sink, before making his way into the hallway and to the front door. "Honestly, there's no bloody need for such a – oh, it's you lot."

He felt torn. On one hand, he was secretly grateful for his visitors and the company they would give him, while on the other, all Draco really wanted was to be left alone.

"Of course it's us," Harry Potter said with a smile, wrapping his arm around Ginny, who held a sleeping James in her arms. Behind him, Draco noted, stood Ron and Colette; in between them stood a small, four year old girl, who Draco could only take to be the infamous Maggie. "Why, who else did you think it was?"

Draco shrugged. "What are you doing here?" He mumbled, leaning against the doorway.

"To see Hermione before she goes of course," Ron grinned, trying to keep it light. The grin slid off his face as Draco pursed his lips and tightened his jaw. "She's – she's still here isn't she?"

Draco shook his head, and silently willed down the tightness that had begun to grow inside his chest. "She left about – about an hour ago."

Not wanting to see the faces of Hermione's closest friends, the Slytherin quickly turned on his heel and walked back into the house. Without waiting for an invite, his visitors followed.

They followed him into the kitchen, where he automatically got five cups out of the cupboard, placed them down and turned the kettle on. He then added a teabag into each cup, before reaching for the sugar.

_Two for Ron, one for Harry, one for Ginny, none for me and none for Colette_.

Everyone watched as he systematically placed the right amount of sugar in each mug. The kettle clicked. Blindly he reached for it, lifted it and began to pour the water into each cup; his hands shook violently, and more water ended up over the counter than in the cups.

"Malfoy," he felt a small, feminine hand rest on his arm, "why don't you let me do this?"

"No, thank you."

"That wasn't an offer, Draco. Now go into the living room with the others, and I'll finish off here."

Reluctantly, "Fine."

Without so much as looking at the red-head, Draco turned on his heel and followed his other visitors into his living room. He sank down into his armchair and watched as Harry, who now held James, Ron and Colette sat down on the sofa. Maggie knelt down by her mother, her blue and green eyes fixed solely on the silent blond. He closed his eyes, sighed and ran a thin aristocratic hand through his dishevelled hair.

When would it end? The numbness, the pain, the sadness, the confusion, the – the annoying prodding.

One eye opened, and then the other. Draco looked down and met the grinning face of Maggie, who was currently poking at his leg.

"You name Draco?"

Nodding, "Yeah."

"Ron told me that you and Mimi are in love. Is that true?" Draco's insides went cold at the mention of Hermione, but a part of him was also secretly endeared by the question and Maggie's nickname for her. Again, he nodded in the affirmative. "Is Mimi here?" She asked, looking around. "I really want to meet Mimi."

"Sorry, Maggie," Draco replied kindly, giving her a tight smile. "Hermione's not going to be back for a long time."

Maggie's face fell. "Is that why you sad?" The intuitive nature of this little girl was remarkable. "What happen?"

"Uh…" Draco began, completely caught off guard. He looked up at Ron and Collette only to see them staring back at him, neither jumping in to help him with the situation or protesting that he shouldn't tell her the truth. "Well, there's this bad man and he – he tricked Hermione into getting married to him."

"He tricked her?" Maggie gasped, her mouth open in a mixture of shock and confusion.

"Yeah, and now Hermione has to go and live with the bad man."

"But Mimi doesn't love bad man?"

"No."

Maggie was suddenly smiling. "Then don't be sad ,Draco," she said in a cheerful voice. "If Mimi doesn't love him, then she loves you, and everything will be okay." Draco couldn't help but smile this time. He knew that what Maggie was saying had some truth to it, he just wished that it was only as easy as she made it sound.

"Thank you, Maggie." The little girl in question wrapped her arms around Draco in a hug, and then walked back over to sit on her mum's lap.

"So… what happened exactly?" Harry asked adjusting his hold on James, as Ginny entered the room with the tea. "What happened when Zabini came?"

"He came over and tried to come inside, but I pushed him out, telling him he wasn't welcome into our home." Draco paused. "I don't think he liked that very much because he started to turn nasty."

"Nasty?" Ron echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"He threatened me to the point of where I almost hexed him. If it wasn't for Hermione stepping in, I would probably be in Azkaban for murder right now."

"Malfoy," Harry began, green eyes piercing his. "If he threatened you, we could probably get him on some charges and send him to Azkaban."

Draco shook his head. "You don't know Zabini, Potter. He's a slippery little snake and he'll find a way out of anything. He's unstoppable, which has been made evident when it comes to keeping Hermione." Draco stopped talking for almost a second, then continued in hopes that he wouldn't have to retell this story after today. It killed him enough just thinking about it. "After Hermione stopped me from attacking Zabini, she really had no choice but to go. We said goodbye, Zabini dragged her away from me and then apparated before I could do anything else."

He deliberately chose to leave out the picture frame. It was one of his last moments with Hermione; personal and private.

"Don't worry," Ron said, breaking the suddenly silence that fell over the crowd. "Hermione's an amazing witch and she can handle anything that comes her way. Remember in first year, Harry, when she conjured up the fire so that we could all escape the Devil's Snare?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, although she almost lost it at first. Remember when she said that she didn't have any wood to light?" Harry and Ron both started laughing at the memory. "And second year when she discovered that it was a basilisk inside of The Chamber of Secrets all by herself."

Ron laughed. "And then don't forget when she made the Polyjuice Potion for us so we could sneak into the Slytherin Common Room, and interrogate Malfoy over there."

Draco's pursed his lips at this memory. He had heard it many a time before, and each time he was far from amused by not realising that the two people he'd been talking to had not been Crabbe or Goyle.

"Remember when she slapped Malfoy third year?" Ron asked as Harry nodded.

"I honestly think after she slapped me I gained a pinch of respect for her," Draco sighed, subconsciously rubbing his cheek. "It took guts to do that."

"It was better the second time seeing it," Harry said with a snort.

The group continued to talk about Hermione and the memories they had with her until they couldn't think of anymore. At around three the group of visitors left; James had started to get fussy and Maggie was restless and bored from all the grown up talk. Draco opened the door to let them out, saying goodbye to each person as they left. Though he had begrudgingly welcomed them into his home, he silently appreciated their company; it had made things a lot more… bearable, to say the least. The last person to leave the house was Harry, who turned to Draco as he stepped outside.

"Look, Malfoy, I can't image how hard this must be for you but you have to stay positive. You need to have faith in Hermione and you have to know that everything is going to be okay." Draco nodded, not quite finding the words to speak. He didn't need to, however, as Harry continued. "Hermione's a strong and brilliant witch; she is more than capable of handling anything that Zabini throws at her."

"Thanks, Potter."

"And, you know, if you need anything all you have to do is owl," Ginny told him, shifting James from one hip to the other.

"Thanks, but I'll be okay. I'm actually going to leave the house for a few days." Draco told the small crowd, who looked at him in surprise. "I'm going to go spend some time with my mum at the Manor; I need to clear my head from this whole mess. I won't be able to get that done here." Draco turned to look back inside. "There are just too many memories."

Draco turned back to Harry when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Harry looked at him with understanding and patted his shoulder. "Don't disappear for too long, okay?"

Draco nodded, and watched as the Potters, Weasley, Colette and Maggie walked to the apparition point and disappeared.

The door closed with an audible bang.

He was alone.

Again.

The silence pounded down upon him unforgivably, leaving him feel battered and bruised. It was deafening.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Firstly, I'd like to apologise for not updating at all last week - it was really hectic and I just didn't find the time. Secondly, I hope you enjoyed! This chapter went through some serious editing – not because it was badly written by _alosercanwin_ or anything like that, I just felt that there were some areas that needed to be tweaked. For the most part, it's still the same though.

The quote "_We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere"_ in Draco's letter from Hermione is by Tim McGraw. I was just reading a few quotes, and this came up. I felt it very appropriate.

Also, to a couple of questions that been asked:

1. In regards of Hermione having to move in with Blaise after they were "officially" married - it's to do with the tradition of marriage, and it's one of the ties within the Wizard's Wedding Contract (well, in this story at least). If she hadn't had to move in with him then there wouldn't have been much of a story; and Hermione and Draco could have continued living together regardless of the marriage.

2. Also, as to Hermione having a "mental breakdown" over it all... that's going to be revealed in a couple of chapters. I admit the next few aren't going to be happy go lucky, but the turning point is coming soon and then the story will very nearly be finished!

Anywho, as per, please review and let me know what you thought of it. The next chapter will be up next week, and it'll be the last one written by _alosercanwin_… and then it's back to purely me. Thanks!

VickytoriaGreengrass


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

_Hermione ran through the portal entrance of Saint Mungo's as fast her feet could carry. Her eyes were conflicted with a wild fear, confusion and concern. She looked manic; tears streamed down her face, her heart was a violent beating in her chest, and her lungs were fit to bust. At full sprint, she shot past healers and patients alike, ignoring their horrified stares as she tore past them._

_From head to toe she was covered in blood._

"_Draco!" She screamed as she rushed down corridor after corridor. "Draco!"_

_Hermione rounded a corner and froze._

_Lying on an operating table, his bruised and bloody body surrounded by healers, was Draco._

_Hermione felt the last straws of her sanity snap._

_She lurched forward, only to be pulled back by a healer. _

"_Let go of me!" Her frenzied pleas fell on deaf ears, and she was pulled further out of the room. "Let. Me. Go!" _

_Through her struggling, Hermione's gaze never drifted away from the deathly pale figure. She felt bile rise up in her throat as she drank in the sight of him. He looked hideous._

_Cuts and bruises decorated his body like a grotesque piece of artwork. His nose wasn't just broken, but completely smashed in. The blood – the blood was too much, and seeped from three stab wounds to the chest. It was brutal._

_The sudden long beep of a heart monitor silenced the room. _

_Hermione sagged in shock, all fight suddenly gone._

"_No…" _

_She suddenly felt numb, and her head throbbed with denial. Draco couldn't die like this; he couldn't _leave_ her like this. He just – he just _couldn't!

_Finding herself released from the healer's grip, Hermione dropped to the floor, unable to stand up any longer. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream._

"_He's dead, Hermione." She closed her eyes in revulsion as fingers stroked their way down her neck. She would recognise that voice anywhere. "He's gone, and he's never coming back." The hand found her waist and pulled her closer to his hard body. _

_Hermione stiffened, and ripped herself away from Blaise._

"_You – you killed him," Hermione croaked out, slowly backing away. Blaise sauntered towards her, his dark eyes overflowing with triumph. Her back hit a wall, and the witch knew that she was trapped. She gulped as Zabini's profile loomed over her, and – the room turned pitch black._

_Brething heavily, Hermione tentatively reached out a hand and searched the dark; all she felt was air. _

"_He – Hello?" She called out into the silence, her voice echoing into the darkness._

"_Mummy?" _

_Lights flashed back on, blinding Hermione. She covered her eyes, and only brought her hands down once her eyes had adjusted to the sudden brightness. _

_In the background she could hear children laughing, the rustling of leaves as the wind danced in the trees, dogs barking and birds singing sweetly as they flew through the air. Her nose was pleasantly teased by the smell of freshly cut grass and the aroma of just-in-bloom flowers. In the distance, she could see a playing area. _

_Confused with the sudden change in scenery, Hermione finally realised that she was stood in the middle of a park. _

"_Mummy?"_

_It was that voice again. Hermione turned round._

_Ten feet away, there stood a little boy, no older than three years old. His grey eyes were solely fixed on her, and his mouth was pulled back into a toothy grin. Hermione cocked her head to the side in silent surprise… _

_He looked so familiar, as if she had met him somewhere before. As if – as if he was a part of her…_

_His name tumbled off her lips without her having to think twice, and she smiled back at her son. Slowly, she knelt down, opened her arms wide and beckoned the child towards her. _

_He was a couple of steps away from her when it happened. All Hermione had done was blink; all it took was a blinding green flash, and her son dropped to the floor – _dead_._

_She couldn't breathe. _

"_He's dead," a silky voice hissed from behind. Hermione started at the voice, got to her feet and turned around. Wand still in hand, a look of ecstasy could clearly be seen on the sharp features of Blaise Zabini. "Just like Draco. They're _both_ dead_."

_Hermione's voice was poisonously calm as she spoke the next three words, "You're a monster." _

_All Hermione could see was the colour red. Red for pain, red for anger, red for _death_. Without even thinking, she lunged herself at Blaise, intent on killing him like he had killed Draco and their son. However, before she could reach him, Blaise vanished into thin air and her world went black for a second time… _

_The lights turned back on, just as dazzlingly bright as the last. This time, Hermione found herself in a courtroom. _

_The first thing she saw was a toad, croaking away to a man who stood in front of it; a Death Eater's robe hung over one shoulder. Once the toad had finished croaking, the Death Eater turned to face a crowd of people that she hadn't noticed before. Her eyes widened as she took note of the familiar profiles of Zabini, his mother, Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. _

_Where was everyone else?_

"_Miss Hermione Granger has been accused and found guilty for the murders of Draco Malfoy and their son –" the Death Eater began, before Hermione's screech of outrage blocked out anymore of his words._

"_What?" She shrieked, leaping from her chair. "No I didn't!" She pointed a shaking finger at Blaise. "It was him; _he _killed them."_

"_Liar!" Parkinson snarled, her blue eyes glowering down upon the outnumbered witch. "She killed them both."_

_Theo nodded his head fervently. "We saw it with our own eyes." _

_The toad let out a raucous croak and the room fell silent. _

_The Death Eater continued, "Miss Granger's punishment will be to spend eternity locked in Zabini Manor. She will never have contact with anyone outside of Mr Zabini's circle, and has to marry Mr Blaise Zabini too."_

_Somewhere in the room, a gavel banged, sealing Hermione's fate._

"_No!" Hermione cried, turning in all possible directions for an escape. Each time she was met with the sinister profile of Zabini. "No, you can't make me. You can't! I've done nothing wrong, I swear. It wasn't me! It wasn't –"_

"Wake up, you stupid girl!"

Hermione's eyes flew open. For a few minutes, still convinced she was trapped in a nightmare, she struggled against the strong pair of hands that were holding her down. She lashed out; blindly reaching out with her hands in an attempt to scratch out her captors eyes.

"Hermione, _stop_."

Hermione froze as she recognised the cold drawl, and the previous day came flooding back to her. She was still in a nightmare – the only difference: this nightmare was real.

Once sure that she wasn't about to attack him, Zabini stepped back and glared down at his wife. "You calmed down yet? We could hear your screams from the dining area. Not exactly

Hermione didn't respond, just sat up in her bed and scowled back.

"What time is it?" She finally bit out, snarling her words as much as possible.

"A little after nine," Blaise replied with feigned disinterest. Pretending to examine his nails, the dark-skinned man cocked an eyebrow at her. "What were you dreaming about?"

"It wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare – several of them," Hermione spat, nostrils flaring. "And it's really none of your business what they were about."

"If my wife is having nightmares then she should tell me so I can help her," Blaise clenched his jaw, and tried to place a hand on Hermione's shoulder in, what he assumed, was a comforting manner.

Hermione instantly jumped, and swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me," she hissed. Her reaction was instantly regretted; the little bit of sympathy she had started to see in Blaise's eyes had gone to be replaced by an incensed rage.

"Get out of bed," Blaise growled, shoving his hands deeply into his trouser pockets. "There are people here who have come to have breakfast with us and welcome you here. I'm not going to have you skipping out on it."

"What people?"

"Just some friends."

Hermione laughed. "You mean _your_ friends?"

"They're all you have besides me, so you better get used to them."

"Not likely," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest in a stubborn manner. "And I'm not joining you or your friends for breakfast either."

Blaise let out a short bark of laughter before launching himself at Hermione. Within seconds, he had her pinned to the bed, one hand holding on to her wrists above her head, as his other held her chin so she was forced to look at him. He wasn't hurting her, just holding her hard enough to keep her pinned.

"Listen to me closely, Hermione," He said in a whisper. "You may think that you're smarter than me, and you also might think that you're going to be able to do whatever you want in this marriage but, here's a news flash for you, darling, you're wrong." Blaise paused for a second, allowing the information to sink in. "You _will_ be obedient and loyal to me, whether you like it or not."

"And what are you going to do if I don't?" Hermione whispered back.

"Don't push me, Hermione," Blaise warned.

"I haven't even started," Hermione felt her lips pull back in a smirk; a smirk she knew that Draco would be proud of. "There's nothing left for you to do to me; you've already taken away everything that I love."

"I can take away any of the freedom you have left in this house with a snap of my fingers, Granger." Blaise reminded her. "Don't do what I say, and anything that has happened in the past will seem like a walk in the park."

"What more could you possibly do to me?"

"Now, if I were you, I'd be down those stairs in five minutes, or the promise of sharing my bed with you starts tonight instead." He sent her one more glare before getting off her and approaching the door. As he pulled it open, he turned back to Hermione. "Remember, five minutes." The door slammed with a shut.

In a rush of air, Hermione let out the breath she had been holding in. The thought of joining Blaise and his guests for breakfast was far from appealing, but the pregnant witch knew that she had no choice. She knew Zabini's threat was full of promise, and he could make her do whatever he wanted – that included sharing a bed with him.

And sharing a bed with the Slytherin was the one thing she dreaded more than anything else.

* * *

"Well, if it isn't my daughter in law." Hermione glanced over towards Zabini's mother as she spoke and inwardly cringed. She had only just descended the stairs, and had already decided that she most definitely did not like their guests in the slightest. Unfazed by Hermione's obvious dislike, Eugenie continued, "So, tell me, Hermione, did you sleep well?"

"No." Hermione answered back, not caring how rude she was sounding. "And I would prefer it if you called me Granger." She pulled out a chair, making sure it was as far away from Blaise as possible, and sat down.

Mrs Zabini continued to smile at her from across the table. "Well, I would prefer to call you Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes, bit down on her tongue to fight off the retort she was itching to snap, and crossed her arms over her chest. With a huff, she then turned to glance at the other guests that had joined them for breakfast. "Hello Parkinson. Nott." The brunette greeted in the most unfriendly tone she could muster.

Both Pansy and Theo smirked. "We thought you wouldn't grace us with your presence this morning," Pansy commented, flipping a piece of hair over her shoulder.

"I wasn't going to," Hermione muttered under her breath, shooting a glare at her husband.

"Well, we're happy you did." Mrs Zabini told her, obviously hearing the comment Hermione had made. "By the way, dear, please feel free to call me Mum."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and grimaced. "I think I'd prefer Mrs. Zabini, thank you very much."

"Nonsense," Mrs Zabini said with an indulgent smile. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Blaise's mother was actually nice or if all of this was just simply an act. "You should call me mum, I insist. I am your mother-in-law now, after all."

"Don't remind me," Hermione hissed quietly.

"After such a beautiful wedding," Eugenie continued, unaware of Hermione's mumble, "there's really no need to be so formal with each other."

"Well I wouldn't know of any beautiful wedding," Hermione turned back to Eugenie as she spoke. "I was too busy being placed under the Imperius Curse to remember anything."

"There's no need to lie anymore," Pansy replied, taking a sip of her tea and glancing at her nails. "Draco isn't around to hear you speak about what really happened between you and Blaise."

The look she gave Pansy was murderous.

"You're too nice Pansy," Theodore Nott snivelled, glancing over at the dark-haired witch. "Draco's so blinded by his love for our dear friend, here, that he wouldn't recognise the truth if it hit him in the face." He let out a wry chuckle, and shook his head, "Oh my, how the mighty have fallen. He's been stupid, indeed."

"Draco is not stupid!" Hermione defended, glowering at the man opposite her.

"Unfortunately, Theo, I'm going to have to agree with _her_." Pansy scowled deeply as she admitted this. "Yes, he may have gotten _her_ pregnant, which was a foolish mistake on his part, I know, but he's still no fool. He was – what? – second in classes at school? Certainly smarter than you, anyway." She smirked as Theo's cheeks burned crimson.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked at Pansy curiously, wondering what she was playing at and when the insult would come in.

Blaise laughed at Theo's discomfort. "As much as I hate to say it, Theo, Pansy's right." Pansy smiled at the compliment.

"Exactly," Pansy agreed. "And with that being the case, as well as Granger being out of the way, I'm sure Draco will soon be coming to his senses, finally realising that he is meant to be with me."

Hermione laughed at this. "Draco will never go back to you."

"Now, where have we heard such a thing before?" Theo mockingly questioned, eyes locked on Hermione. "Oh yes, I remember now; you said the exact same thing to Blaise, and now look at the two of you, you're married."

"I didn't go back to Zabini, and you know it. You all do."

"Liar," Nott coerced, smiling cruelly at Hermione's growing discomfort. "Come now, there's no need to play stupid anymore. I was –"

"I am not a liar, and I am most definitely _not_ stupid!" Hermione was now on her feet. Her breathing was heavy from anger, and she could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

The whole room fell silent.

"Perhaps you are right, Theodore," Eugenie finally spoke up, layering her toast with a heavy spread of jam. "I mean, the girl can hardly remember her wedding."

"Because I was _cursed_!" Hermione yelled, fist clenched at her side, finding herself on the verge of tears.

It was too much. This was all _too much_.

"Hermione, darling, _please_ take a seat." Blaise sent Hermione a pointed look.

"No!" She continued, stomping her feet in protest. "I am through with listening to you and all this – this _bullshit_ that you're trying to feed me! You can play dumb all you like; you can pretend to be nice; and you can try and force me to bend to your will, even though you _know_ I'm not going to budge! It's not going to work, Blaise, so why even bother?" Hermione paused for breath, and looked to see four very shocked faces looking at her. The next time she spoke, it was a lot calmer.

"What exactly do you get out of this? No, really, what is it that you gain? All I see here is a group of people who are obsessed with holding onto the past, that they don't even realise the kind of people that they're becoming. You get enjoyment from the pain of others, and in everything you do there is no consideration for the consequences of your actions. You're all so intent on reliving the past, that you're all just merely existing right now. None of you have moved on, and – and I pity you for that."

The silence was deafening. Hermione, still on her feet, looked each member of her audience in the eye, before letting out a sigh. The last remnants of a fight had completely left her.

Pansy was the first to speak. "Is that so?" She asked, voice low.

"Yes," Hermione breathed.

"It's a shame I don't care." The bark of laughter Pansy let out was cold and unfeeling. "Not anymore. I tried moving on, you know; countless of times. And just when I thought I'd got there, I would see you and him _together_, and the life I'd tried to build up, the walls, the new slate – _everything_ – came crashing down. This –" Pansy stopped dead, eyes widening in realisation. She angrily wiped at the tears which had started to form, and by the time her hands were down by her sides again, they were cold and unfeeling. "I'm going to get Draco back, Granger. Mark my words, I will."

"You cheated on him, Pansy," Hermione reminded her. "You can try all you want, but the facts remain the same; Draco will never be yours." Her voice had remained soft and gentle, unable to stop her heart from going out to the girl, who had showed signs of vulnerability, even if it was just for a few seconds. It didn't excuse anything but, all the same, Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for the Slytherin witch.

"How dare you!" Pansy's outraged screech broke the tense silence. She stood up from her chair, which fell back and hit the wooden floor with an almighty _thud_. Within seconds, she was round the same side of the table as Hermione, hand pulled back. Hermione closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable _slap_ of skin hitting skin.

"No!"

Hermione opened her eyes, to see that Zabini had grabbed hold of Parkinson's arm. As Blaise's angry voice began to fill the room, Hermione turned on her heel and left the room. "You can't hurt her!" Hermione heard Blaise yell as she sprinted up the main stairway. "If anything happens to her and that baby, I lose her for good; you heard Umbridge."

Hermione didn't hear Pansy's reply. She was too busy running – though from what she didn't know. She knew none of them were chasing after her.

All she wanted to do was get as far away from that room as possible. All she wanted to do was disappear – to anywhere, to somewhere – to a place where she could feel safe and loved again.

But as she ran, Hermione knew that there wasn't any place like this here.

She had no sanctuary in her life…

Not anymore.

Hermione only stopped running when she felt her chest closing in on her, and breathing uncontrollable. Bent over, her hands on her knees, she gasped for breath.

Eventually, she looked up, and a sudden horror seemed to wash over her. Even though Blaise had given her a tour of the house, she was unable to remember this part of the house for the life of her. Deciding that she wasn't going to get anywhere by just standing here and panicking, Hermione chose to walk and find her way back to her room.

She walked on for about fifteen minutes, biting her lower lip as she looked around the hallways, hoping to Merlin that she would recognize something. Just when she was about to lose all hope in ever finding her way back to her room, she spotted a door that looked identical to the one which led into her room. Letting out a sigh of relief, she approached it. Gripping the handle she turned it and pushed the door open, but what stood before her was not her room.

Her mouth fell open in shock at what was before her eyes. There was no furniture in the room and from the little bit of space that Hermione could see, it looked like the walls were painted a light champagne colour. It was what covered the walls that had grabbed Hermione's attention. Closing the door behind her, Hermione entered the room, and surveyed the sight before her.

Nearly every inch of the room was covered in pictures and newspaper clippings of her. Eyes wide and mouth still open in shock, she walked the perimeter of the room, her hand moving along all the pictures and articles as she walked past.

She couldn't believe her eyes.

By the look of things, Blaise had been following her closely for years. All around the walls were pictures of her and all her friends. There were pictures of her standing next to Harry, ones of her helping Ron de-gnome the garden back at The Burrow, and even pictures of her and Draco; some of them were pictures of the two of them together before they had even started dating.

Along with the pictures of her and Draco, Hermione even found an article, dated all the way back to 2001, which had been the year they first started to date. She shook her head in disbelief as she continued to walk the walls. When she returned back to the doorway, and was about to leave the room, one more article caught her eye. She licked her lips nervously before reading. It was an article announcing her engagement to Draco and how it would change the face of the Wizarding world.

"Oh my god," Hermione gasped, taking several steps back. She could not believe what she was seeing. "He's been stalking me for years…"

She didn't want to waste any more time. Pushing through the door, she sprinted back down the hall, repeating all the ways she turned so she could find her way back.

"_He's been stalking me for years…"_

Hermione knew that there was no way this was legal. All she would have to do was get pictures of the room, get evidence of how close of an eye he kept on her, get anything, and then she could have the marriage annulled.

With her heart suddenly filled with joy at the thought of her getting out of here and being able to go back to Draco, she managed to find her way back to her room.

Pushing the door open, she ran into her suitcase and dug deep, pulling out the old Polaroid camera she had. Grabbing a hold onto it tightly, she sprinted from the room, heading back in the direction that she had just come; muttering directions under her breath as she determinedly marched through the house.

Her heart leapt when she noticed the door. Grasping onto the handle, she flung the door open and, in her excitement, snapped a picture straight away. But her heart suddenly fell, the same feeling of depression sinking back into her that had been with her since the moment she arrived at Zabini Manor. Hanging her head low, she pulled the door handle back open and left the room, her camera swinging limply from her right hand. In her left, she held onto the picture she had taken just moments before. Glancing down at it one more time, Hermione threw it to the floor.

The picture landed on the ground face up, showing off four very empty, champagne-coloured walls.

The little spark of hope that had risen inside sputtered and died.

All the evidence she had needed – the pictures, the articles – were all gone.

Hermione woke up the next morning to the sun shining in her eyes. Checking the clock on her nightstand, she noted that it was close to ten. Her stomach growled in protest to not being fed in a while, so Hermione threw her legs over the bed and quickly got changed. Judging by the fact that Blaise hadn't come to wake her up, she guessed there weren't any guests in the house.

Pushing her bedroom door open, Hermione made her way downstairs. As she entered the dining room, she found Blaise sitting at the head of the table, the Daily Prophet in his hands. Licking her lips, Hermione took a seat at the table and watched as a house elf approached her with her breakfast.

"Thank you," She said in a soft voice as the elf placed her meal in front of her. The elf nodded in response, then walked back into the kitchen.

Just as Hermione took a bite of her eggs, Blaise spoke. "There's no need to be nice to the house elves," He said without taking his eyes off his paper. "I would actually prefer if you didn't."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione said, between mouthfuls. "Because whether you like it or not, I am going to be nice them."

"Is that so?" Blaise commented, lowering his paper.

"Yes," Hermione replied defiantly without looking at him. "I've been petitioning for elf rights ever since I was fourteen, and that's not changed." She took another bite, and then reached for her tea. "You never used to complain." Her comment was light, but spoke volumes.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Blaise snapped under his breath, ignoring his wife's jibe.

"In the wrong house is more like it," Hermione muttered in reply.

"No need to worry though, darling," Blaise said, not hearing Hermione's comment.

"Really? Why's that?" She questioned, finally looking at him. His tone twisted her stomach into knots, and was instantly put off her food.

"Because come tomorrow night, you'll be sleeping with me." He looked over at Hermione, a seductive smile in place. "And I'll make _sure_ you don't wake up on the wrong side."

Hermione scoffed, and pushed her chair back from the table. "You're disgusting," She said, turning her back on Blaise and starting to walk away. "I'll never sleep with you."

Blaise just laughed. "That's what you think, my dear, that's what you think…"

Hermione spent the rest of the day in her room, calling house elves to bring her meals. She knew that when it came down to it, she would really have no choice but to share a bed with Blaise. She wouldn't sleep with him if she could help it, but sharing a bed was something she couldn't avoid. And knowing that by tomorrow night she would be in nothing short of a nightmare, she wanted to spend the rest of the day as far away from Zabini as it was possible to be.

Of course, he still came to taunt her.

It was what he did best.

He would show up at her door around every hour, saying he was there to check up on her. In reality, Hermione knew he was only there to gloat about how she would be with him come tomorrow, and that he was counting down the hours every time he came back.

At around nine, he came into her room for one last time, bade her "_goodnight_" and that he would see her in the morning. He left the room with a wink.

In response, Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. She then proceeded to throw the covers over her head, hoping for a sleep that wasn't full of nightmares. She had just begun to sink into the realm of dreams when a faint tapping disturbed her.

Looking up, she saw a barn own sitting on the window ledge, looking up at her. Curious as to who would be owling her, Hermione got out of bed and allowed the bird into the room. He flew over towards her bed, landed on one of the posts and held out his leg. Hermione approached it, patting its head lightly before untying the note. She watched as the owl flew out the window, and then began to open up the letter that was addressed to her.

She couldn't help but smile as she read it.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We are writing to inform you that a neo-natal appointment has been booked for you for Monday 24__th__ November, at 11:30am. Please make sure that you arrive half an hour before your allotted time, and that the father, Mr Draco Malfoy, is also present as well. If there is any problems or if you have any enquiries, then please do not hesitate to contact us._

_Hoping you and your baby are well,_

_St. Mungo's Maternity Ward _

Hermione hugged the letter to her chest and fell back into her bed.

Two weeks. That was it. Just two weeks of living in hell until she would finally be able to see Draco again.

Sure, come tomorrow, she would have to share a bed with Zabini, but that barely seemed like nothing now. For the first time since she had arrived

She only had two weeks, two weeks of living hell, but only two weeks at that, until she would finally get to see Draco again. Sure, come tomorrow, she would have to share a bed with Zabini, but right now that seemed like nothing. In fact, Hermione felt like she could push through anything, thanks to that little ray of hope she had been given through this letter.

With one final sigh, the Gryffindor closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her for the night, a small light finally becoming lit at the end of a very, very dark tunnel.

* * *

**Author's Note:** And that's that. I'm really sorry for being absolutely sucky at updating at the moment - and I can promise you now/arn you, it's only going to get worse. I've got to write 10,000 words within the next month, and so that is going to be my main priority. I'll try and update when I can, depending on what's been written. I've done Chapter 13 and 14, so they'll be up reasonably soon, but as for the the rest of the story... that may take longer than I had originally planned. So, um, yeah, just to let you guys know that I'm not abandoning this story or anything, I'm just ridiculously busy at the moment. No, like seriously busy. It sucks big time.

Anywho, moving on, tis was the last one written by _alosercanwin_, so from here on in it's back to yours truly. WOO! I have to admit, again, I edited things slightly – just because I wanted to add a few more dimensions to some characters, mainly Pansy. I really didn't want her to come across as a total whore, which is what had happened previously. I'd rather you saw her – and to an extent, even Blaise – as someone who's made mistakes, just as the next person would. Of course, their mistakes have been a bit extreme… so, yeah.

Anywho, please let me know what you thought with a review. From here on in, the chapters will be about 1-2 weeks apart, depending on how quickly I get them written and how quickly I finish my assignments.

Thanks for reading,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **So we're back to just me now… I have to admit (which is possibly shown in the chapters I've edited) my writing style has changed slightly since I began writing this. However, I hope you still enjoy it and that the difference isn't that huge. Secondly, I'd also like to apologise for the lack of updates recently - it's suckish of me, I know, but it can't be helped unfortunately. I'm done with my assignments now (wooop) BUT I've now got joyous exams coming up (sucks to be me), meaning that updates won't be frequent for a tad longer. I'm really super sorry that I've not updated in ages, but I hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't anything.

Chapter Thirteen

"Draco, why don't you come in side?"

Her question gave way to silence, disappearing into the air as a strong blast of wind tore through the naked branches of trees and nipped at her skin. A thick fog hung low, heavy and dense; slithering into every crevice on the winter-strewn garden, obscuring her normally perfect vision into seeing the world in a duller light.

Then again, that morning's weather was possibly not the only reason for her dimming view.

The last few days – _weeks_ even – had taken its toll on her more than she cared to admit. Absolutely horrified at the trauma her son and Hermione had been put through, Narcissa had been unable to truly express her emotions, knowing that she needed to be strong for her son. Each passing day grew into one continuous nightmare, and with the way their lives were currently going at the moment, the blonde witch could see no end to it. Just like the fog that momentarily suffocated them, diminishing her eye sight, the future she, Draco and Hermione – a future once so bright and full of promise – now lay unknown and full of trepidation. All sparks of light had vanished, leaving their lives trapped in a never-ending black tunnel.

"Draco," she tried again, stepping forward and placing her small hand on his shoulder. Her son, silent and still, a pose she hadn't seen in quite some time, tensed slightly at her touch. "If you stay outside any longer, you're going to make yourself ill. I know you're hurting, but closing yourself up and reverting back to the old you will not help matters or change anything. It's not what Hermione would have wanted."

She knew her words would not be welcome, and that she was treading on thin ice, but Narcissa also knew that such things needed to be said.

"Go away, Mother." Draco's voice was strained, tight like his posture. However, underneath it all, Narcissa could sense her son's weariness, a clear sign that, deep down, he was beginning to crack.

"No."

Underneath her hand, Narcissa felt the tightness of Draco's shoulders intensify at her blatant defiance, and she could almost picture the sneer that would currently be curling round his lips in a distasteful mew of displeasure. It had always been like that, ever since he was a little boy; the minute her son didn't get his way, then his posture would straighten, the lips would lose any pleasantness about them and his eyes would narrow and harden into dark stones of granite. In such moments, Narcissa was reminded of the uncanny resemblance he held to her deceased husband; it was almost scary to see how far the similarities went. The former Slytherin was just glad that it no longer delved deeper than shared features – for the most part.

"You don't need to act like this, you know." Narcissa echoed her first sentiment; her thumb began to run in smoothing circles, in an attempt to relax Draco's tense shoulders. "It's not doing you any good. You need to open, Draco; _talk _about how you're feeling."

Draco was silent for a couple of minutes, and Narcissa hoped beyond hope that her son was contemplating her words. The wind was steadily growing stronger, and roared past her ears with a growing ferocity as the time slowly dragged forever onwards.

Finally, Draco muttered the following four words, "I don't want to."

Draco's mother felt her heart miss a beat at his emotionless tone. It spoke volumes to her – only something a mother could understand – truly revealing the raw emotion that lay trapped deep inside Draco's very soul. She was not about to give up, even if would take some time before her son finally came out of this shell he had cocooned himself in.

"You could at least try." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Waiting for some kind of response, Narcissa turned her head slightly to look out across her garden. It lay beautifully frozen; frost cloaked the grass so that it glistened like emeralds in the weak mist-filled sunlight, the faint outline of trees stood bare to the world, revealing even the most secret of places, and the pond, which could be seen teeming with life in the spring and summer months, lay still and frozen, unwilling to share its secrets until the warmer days approached.

Right now, the frozen water reminded Narcissa of her son. Gone was the young man who had grown to be so open around those who he could count as friends, and instead here was a boy she never thought she'd see again; frozen in a world full of deep emotion, but unwilling to share it with the world, in fear of getting hurt even more than he already had.

"It's been three days."

The sound of Draco's voice caused Narcissa to nearly jump, so succumbed was she to her thoughts and the belief that Draco would ignore her request to actually talk.

"I know," she finally uttered, with a sad smile.

"It feels longer."

"Of course it does; these last few weeks haven't been easy on you, Draco." _They haven't been easy on any of us_.

Despite his short and clipped comments, beneath it all, Narcissa could recognised her son's vulnerability. Besides, if it was the start of him coming out of his shell, then she'd accept it. Progress was progress after all.

"I miss her." Narcissa's voice caught as she heard Draco's do the same. It was raw and constricting, as Draco used every ounce of his reserve to not break down. With a quick cough, he was back to his unfeeling façade.

"We all do, Draco. Hermione is very dear to a lot of people."

"I feel… lost. I feel broken."

"I know."

"No, mother, you _don't_." Voice even icier than before, Narcissa knew her reply had been the wrong thing.

With a quick shrug of his shoulder, Narcissa felt the palm of her hand hit the chilly air. It felt colder than it ever had before. She quickly opened her mouth, in hopes of rectifying the matter, but was quickly cut off but Draco's emotionless drawl.

"I'll be inside when I'm ready."

Without another word, and not one single glance at his mother throughout the entirety of their conversation, Draco stalked off. Narcissa watched him go, her heart breaking at Draco's callousness, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

* * *

"And where do you think you're going?"

_Crap_.

Caught in the act of leaving Zabini Manor, Hermione froze on the spot and turned to face Zabini's intrigued figure, which stood at the bottom of the stairs. His arms were folded, an eyebrow was raised and his head was cocked slightly to the side; the impatient sound of a foot tapping echoed off the cool marble floor.

"Well, Hermione, I'm waiting." His voice was laced with a controlling undertone, which only made her blood boil. Who was _he_ to demand such things from her?

Bristling slightly, Hermione straightened up, her chin stuck proudly in the air. "I'm going to work." Her eyes flashed dangerously, daring Blaise to contradict her, just like she knew he would. "I've been off for nearly a month now, and it's about time I got back. If you think I'm going to be stuck in this hellhole day in day out, then you've got another thing coming."

For the last five years, Hermione had worked at The Ministry of Magic, in the _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_, campaigning for the rights of certain magical beings that had been treated badly in the past. She loved her job, always feeling satisfied with the work she completed, especially when a new bill was passed, and could not see herself doing anything else for the time being.

Thanks to Zabini, however, the last month had been work free. However, not that things were… _sorted_, as it were, the Gryffindor felt there to be no need in taking any more time off. The sooner she got back to her job the better; at least for some of her time nearly every day, she'd be able to focus on something that wasn't Blaise-related, which was her main reason for returning.

Deep inside though, Hermione knew that there was another reason too.

Throughout the whole ordeal, she had yet to hear anything from any of her colleagues or boss, all of whom she had got along with amicably since she had started her job there. At first, she had thought it was because they were giving her space – Draco surely must have contacted her work as soon as she had gone missing all those weeks ago – but as time progressed, something began to niggle away at her. Naturally, she believed this was down to a sense of paranoia – how could she not be after all she'd been through? – and so she found the best way to face this fear was to return to the job she so dearly loved and knuckle down with the hideous amount of work she would have to catch up on. Right now, however, after being caught by Blaise, she had a feeling that being allowed to leave the house was completely non-existent.

"Alright then," Blaise complied, with a shrug.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?" She said, struck dumb by Zabini's sudden willingness.

_This is not normal_.

"I said you can go to work. I'm sure it'll be an… _interesting_ experience."

Too excited by the prospect of actually being able to _leave_ the house, Hermione had left the manor before she could catch the last of Zabini's sentence. Her heart swelling with excitement – _it's like my first day all over again_, she thought fondly – the minute she was outside the wards of the grand house, she had turned on her heel and vanished. Minutes later she was briskly walking through the familiar corridors of The Ministry, eager to get to her desk and _finally_ catch up on all the work that had been left behind over the last few weeks.

"Good morning," Hermione called to everyone as she entered the familiar office. Heads shot up, and mouths hung open. "It's been a while now, hasn't it? I am sorry for all that, but with everything that's happened in recent weeks it must –"

Hermione stopped dead as she approached her desk, taking in the unfamiliar figure of a young woman, with dark brown hair and green eyes, who looked no more than twenty-two. She was staring up at Hermione startled, silently stunned to see her there as much as Hermione was to see her.

"I'm sorry," Hermione began, suddenly feeling numb with dread. "But who are you?"

Recovering slightly at the sound of Hermione's voice, the younger woman quickly spoke up. "I'm Astoria Greengrass, Miss Granger." She smiled genuinely, though the crinkle in her eye told Hermione she was nervous. She leant out a hand for Hermione to shake, and the Gryffindor subconsciously obliged, still eyeing the girl with weariness and curiosity. "Please, call me Story."

Hermione's returning smile wasn't as genuine, but tight from this feeling of dread that had formed in her stomach. "I don't mean to be rude, Story," Hermione began quietly, noticing that all ears were listening intently, "but I think you may be at the wrong desk. This is where I normally work, and have done for quite some time." Her voice was strained from the thought of losing her temper at the innocent girl before her, but her hormones had suddenly decided to go crazy, changing as if turned on or off by a switch.

Astoria paled and realisation dawned on her face. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but this is my desk now. You see, I'm – I'm your replacement."

"_I'm your replacement…"_

It echoed in Hermione's head, though the brunette could not quite register Astoria's words. "So you've been working as my temp, then? Covering all my work?"

Astoria shook her head. "Not quite, I'm afraid. The thing is you don't work here anymore. You handed in your resignation with immediate effect about a month back now."

Hermione's eyes had narrowed dangerously, and her anger had risen to unforeseen heights. "What?" She demanded, and the other woman flinched. "No I didn't! I think I would know if I –"

Hermione suddenly felt her heart sink with realisation: Zabini. _He _had done this to her. Now that she came to think about it, this sudden change of heart in Blaise had most certainly not added up. Forging a resignation and then humiliating a completely unaware Hermione upon going to work, was definitely more his forte.

"I really am sorry about all this," Astoria apologised, her green eyes glistening with sympathy. "Perhaps it would be best to go and see Mr Wilkins; perhaps he can help you figure something out." She stood up and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Come on, we'll go and see him together." Feeling tears beginning to well up, and her chest starting to constrict in pain, Hermione nodded and followed her replacement in silence. It was all she could do.

* * *

"There _has_ to be something you can do, Hermione."

Claire and Richard Granger were seated across from their daughter, who had come bursting into their house some hours ago, on the verge of a mental breakdown. There had been tears, shouting and a few broken cups – the latter being from when Hermione had briefly lost control of her magic – as her parents comforted and listened to their distraught child telling them the events of that day.

It was the cherry on top of a very bad sundae.

The last few weeks had been one long nightmare. Being apart from the Wizarding world didn't help matters either; as Muggles they weren't privy to the laws of the world their daughter lived in, leaving them confused, especially when they were so archaic that they belonged in the Dark Ages. It also left them feeling angry and frustrated, hating the fact that they couldn't do anything in these circumstances.

Wiping her eyes, her face blotchy and red from long hours of crying, the pregnant witch shook her head. "No, there isn't; Blaise has made sure of that." She let out another sob. "It seems no matter which way we've turned ever since this all began, he's always been one step ahead of us."

"It's like he knows your every move." Her father grunted, jaw clenched in restrained anger.

"That's because he does, Daddy. He was in the Order with us all, and I did date him for two years. In that time he got to know us well, and we…" she trailed off as realisation hit.

"And you what, honey?" Claire asked, concerned by her daughter's sudden quietness. There was still no response, but slowly Hermione's eyes began to widen.

"Hermione?" This time Richard spoke, his voice was soft but full of worry.

"How could I have been so stupid?" Hermione groaned, running a hand through her hair. She looked at her parents exasperated, as if she couldn't understand why they hadn't caught on to her trail of thought. "Don't you see – we've been going about this the all wrong! Zabini _knew_ we'd try and fight him every step of the way, which he clearly anticipated."

Her parents shared a look, intrigued by their daughter's thinking.

"During the war," Hermione continued, "Blaise and I were placed together to make failsafe plans for the Order; it's one reason we grew so close. We both had a critical eye for detail, and while I took charge of making the plans, Zabini would then analyse them for any chinks. We would then rewrite the plan until it was near on perfect." She let out a giddy sigh, a sudden lightness bursting forth as something finally came together. "That's why he's ahead of us in all of this; it's because he knows what we're like, and how we would deal with this. Being who we are, we'd look forward, hoping to thwart him that way. But what if that's not how we're meant to do it? What if Blaise's downfall is in the detail?"

She grew quiet again, her mind racing with ideas. It was like a dam had been broken, finally destroying the numbness in her mind. Before her dad had triggered her line of thought, Hermione's mind had been a mess, meaning that she had been unable to think about the whole ordeal properly – something which Blaise had anticipated. Now, however, she was alive, and her mind was burning brightly.

"Hang on, Hermione." Her mum said cautiously, trying to be rational against the thrill of sudden delight which had shone from her daughter. "If what you're saying is true, and that Blaise is so meticulous with all his planning, then how is this is all going to help?"

Hermione grinned. "That's the beauty of it all, Mum; it'll help more than you can possibly imagine. No plan the Order ever had was perfect, even if it seemed that way; we just made it very hard for anyone to figure out where the downfall lay."

"Which was?"

"The basic idea," Hermione told them. "Every single plan Zabini and I ever made all started with a single and easy notion; a prompt or even a goal, as it were. If someone was able to figure out our starting base for a mission plan, then the whole thing would unravel. Build it up and cover it up with layer after layer, then to the mind it seems impossible to foil." She sat back in her chair, hands coming to rest on her stomach, which she then began to caress softly. "Now tell me," she began, a familiar bossy tone entering her voice. "What does this situation focus around?"

Claire and Richard shared a look, green eyes meeting brown. "Revenge," they both uttered at the same time, looking at their daughter for confirmation.

"No," Hermione replied, shaking her head. She laughed shrilly. "Not exactly; that's only what Blaise _wants_ us to believe."

"Then what is it, Hermione?"

The brunette looked pointedly at her parents and replied with one word, "Marriage."

* * *

_Dearest Draco,_

_First off I apologise for perhaps the briefness of this letter. If I could I would write longer, but time is of the essence and I don't have long. First and foremost, I just want you to know that we're both fine, and that we have a check-up with Healer Ashton for 24__th__ November at 11:00, and that you are to be there as well._

_Secondly, I went to see my parents today and finally came to a realisation that I hadn't been able to do so before. I can't explain now as it's long and complicated, but for more information go and see Harry. As soon as I realised, he was the first person I went to, knowing he'd have the available resources to start research immediately. Of course, you can also see that I've been to Harry's due to my use of Hedwig. _

_These last few days haven't been easy for me, and the same can probably be said for you. But now, with this sudden realisation of mine, perhaps not all hope has gone. I'm not about to give up on us – not now, not ever. Until we meet again,_

_Forever yours,_

_Hermione_

Draco looked down at the note in his hand, his face tight as a myriad of emotions flew through him; the blind numbness that always plagued his senses these days, happiness at having contact with Hermione again, curiosity by her vague implication of new-found information and euphoria at the prospect of seeing her in just two weeks' time. It was hard to fix on just one feeling.

As it all sunk in, however, the blond found himself smiling slightly for the first time in days. It still held lines of fear and worry, but for the nearly-broken young man, this smile was a start, a new beginning. For now, the letter he had received had given him a new burst of hope… and this time, he wasn't about to let it go.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **Oh. My. Days. This took me _forever_ to write! If I'm honest, I'm not 100% happy with this chapter at all. I've rewritten it about 5 times now, and this is the final result. I think the reason for how hard it was to write is due to the fact that it's obviously been a while since I actually wrote a full blown chapter for this story.

Anyhow, I hope the whole plan/simple idea thing was easy enough to understand, and I guess you could say this chapter is a turning point. From here on in, things will start to get slightly better – slowly but surely. There's only like 10/11 chapters left now (Epilogue included) so not long now, I guess! Once again so sorry for the long time in updating this story and Please let me know your thoughts with a review,

Thank you,

VickytoriaGreengrass


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

"You can move over you know, I won't bite."

Hermione let out a snort of disbelief, and scooted even closer to the edge of the bed. "I'm quite alright thank you," she retorted, tightening the covers protectively around her. "Now, if you don't mind, please be quiet; I'm trying to sleep."

Blaise let out a low chuckle, and shook his head. "Listen, Hermione, if I was going to do anything to you, I would have done it by now, and you know it. Just relax, and get some sleep. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

It had been five days since Hermione had finally managed to make a break through with Blaise's scheme, and five days since she and her… _husband_ had started sharing a bed. Surprisingly, he had yet to try anything with her, which for that she was grateful, but she couldn't help but be weary of him, considering all he had done in the past few months. It actually irked her (and confused her somewhat) to suddenly have Zabini change his tactics; there had been a change to him in the last few days, and it unnerved her to such an extent that sleep was lacking.

She didn't trust him, and would never trust him again. The fact that he still believed she would finally come round to him was laughable, and Hermione couldn't believe he had the audacity to even try and win her over.

There were some things that could never be forgiven.

"Well sorry if I'm unable to believe a word that comes out of your mouth," Hermione snarled, looking over her shoulder and sending the dark wizard a glare. "If you were so intent on making sure I never got hurt by you, then you should have never done what you did in the first place."

"Which thing?" Blaise replied, his voice teasing and cruel. "Cheating on you all those years back or this more recent… event?"

"Both of them! If you had ever remotely loved me all those years ago, then you would have never cheated on me." She turned to face him. "_And_ if you still loved me, as you supposedly claim, then you would have accepted the fact that I moved on, and was happy with Draco." She let out a sound of disgust. "You don't love me, Blaise; you just want to have control over me."

Blaise sat up to, jaw tight and eyes narrowed. Deep down, he knew that Hermione was right, though he was hardly going to openly admit this. He had worked too hard to get her back, and there was no way he was about to let her go anytime soon. For the past four and half years he had had to suffer, and it was only right for her to suffer just as much as he had – perhaps even more.

"What happened to you, Blaise?" Hermione's voice was suddenly sad, and she stared at him sympathetically. Her dark brown eyes shone in the moonlight, but instead of looking beautiful, there was a haunted look about them. "When were together you were so happy, so carefree – and then you changed. You were hiding something, you were acting differently. And then I found you with Pansy, and it all made sense. I just don't understand why you thought you had to do it? If you hadn't slept with her, then none of this would have happened."

Again Blaise remained silent, but there was a tenseness about him which told Hermione she was getting to him. It hurt her too, even though she had been able to move on with her life – a life which had brought her Draco and a sort of happiness she never thought possible. But still, there was always going to be that question of _what if_?

"The past is the past, Hermione." Blaise sighed, turning his back on her. "There's no point in talking about it. Now, get some sleep."

Hermione felt all her previous sadness disappear at Blaise's comment. "How dare you!" She hissed. Fury coursed through her veins, and her nostrils thinned as she breathed in and out heavy spurts of air. "After all you've done _because_ you've been so hung up on the past, and then you dare say something like that?" She looked at him anger and disgust, before turning her back to him in fear that she'd cause the dark wizard some serious harm.

As sleep hit her, a single tear rolled down her cheek as the last remnants of the Zabini she used to know and love disappeared into nothing…

* * *

"Why are we researching the Marriage Law again?" Ron groaned for the umpteenth time, as his fingers flicked through a volume. "I mean, what has this got to do with helping Hermione? As far as I can see, all it is doing is showing us the rules of the Marriage Law and what the spell entails."

Looking at the red head, Draco shrugged. "I'm not too sure myself, Weasley." He admitted, as he closed _Wizarding Marriage Through the Ages_. "However, Hermione believes that the marriage holds the key to everything, and once we figure out the specifics, then we can hopefully destroy Zabini." He grinned in relish at the thought of hurting Blaise, a sick pleasure washing over him, before clearing his throat and turning to their other companion, who was frowning. "Any luck over there, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. All I've learnt so far is that the ceremony spell was created by Valentina Lovelace in 1859, and how she created it. I guess it's interesting, and somewhat relevant, but…" He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "I just wish Hermione had been more specific; she's the one who can do the research, normally. Asking me and Ron to do it is a straight line to disaster."

"I'm sure Granger's trying to do some research when she can," Draco replied. "We have the appointment tomorrow –" Here he paused and smiled, his face relaxing at the thought of them being reunited, "– so I'll try and ask her if she's found anything else out. The fact that she's been able to come up with this theory, even if it does seem vague right now, is remarkable. I don't know where her breakthrough came from, but I'm glad it happened. It's given us hope; perhaps she won't be married to Blaise forever."

"But by Wizarding Law, the marriage is permanent –" Ron argued, before stopping suddenly from a glare sent his way by Harry. "Right," he sighed before turning back to the book at hand.

All was silent for a while, as they rifled through page after page after page. Now and then a scratch of a quill could be heard as the three men wrote down something that they thought could be potentially useful. Half an hour went by, in which Ron quickly became restless.

As if suddenly struck by lightning, the redhead quickly sat bolt upright in his chair, blue eyes widening and then narrowing as he thought something through. "I have a question," he began slowly. "In regards to the marriage." Both Draco and Harry looked at him, waiting patiently for the Weasley to continue. "Even though Hermione's technically married to Zabini, why does she have to live with him? I mean, she didn't before the court trial, so what's changed now?"

"Weasley, are you sure you weren't brought up by Muggles?" The tone of incredulity in Draco's voice was prominent, and the look of despair clearly told all that he currently thought Ron to be an idiot. "One of the requirements for Wizarding Marriage is that the two parties live together; a married couple represents a _united_ front, meaning that they need to give that appearance. A lot of Wizarding Marriages, particularly in days gone by, were arranged marriages between two families of great wealth and status.

"Naturally, these marriages weren't love matches, which meant that, other than when it were necessary, the husband and wife would live separate lives – but only _within_ the household. To the outside world, however, they were supposed to present themselves as the perfect couple. Now, as to why Hermione could live away from him before the trial is simple: She hadn't accepted their union. However, once the trial concluded that they were… _married_, she had to accept the terms of the Marriage Contract, no matter how unwillingly, by way of the law."

"Sounds bloody ridiculous if you ask me," Ron breathed, face scrunched up in bemusement. "Then again, most archaic Wizarding Laws are."

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered from where he sat, as he grabbed another volume.

Draco did the same, and Ron also followed suit. Silently wishing that he was spending the day with Colette and Maggie, his eyes widened as he read the title of the chapter in front of him – _Infidelity_ – quietly wondering what relevance this had with anything they were researching. Believing it to be of no use, he quickly flicked to the following chapter, _Women's Rights in Marriage_, and began to read it, in case there was something Hermione could use against Zabini.

He ignored the sound of Hermione's bossy tone – _"Always read every chapter, Ronald." _– and the sudden feeling that he had quite possibly missed something quite crucial.

* * *

"I saw Parkinson today," Ginny Potter commented over dinner, later that evening. Immediately three heads turned to her. "She looked… strange, sad even. Not at all how she was after the trial."

"Why?" Ron asked, as if expecting an answer.

"I don't know," his sister shrugged, as she took another bite of chicken. "I was hardly going to talk to her now, was I? I just thought it odd; only a few weeks back she was gloating her head off, and now she's as miserable as ever."

"Probably broke a nail," Ron muttered, shovelling food into his mouth.

The laughter he was expecting at his joke didn't come, and he quickly looked up to survey his fellow companions. All of three were frowning in deep thought, especially Harry and Draco who were quite obviously churning over Ginny's piece of information with great interest.

Vindictive as she was, it was a well-known fact that Pansy Parkinson (for the most part, at least), was normally considered to be a particularly happy girl, delighting in her spiteful nature and how it affected others. To hear news of a sudden change was not only a cause for concern – who knew what she might do – but also a rather interesting one that Draco, Harry, Ginny and Ron now desperately wanted to know.

"Something's happened," Draco murmured, lickings his lips. "I'm not sure what, but I'm pretty sure it involves Hermione and Zabini. Parkinson is rarely the sort of person to get upset by anything _unless_ it's to do with a situation that she's involved in; this current ordeal is the only thing that could possibly make sense. The only question is: what is it?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **So... it's been a while. Really sorry about that folks. It's not like I haven't wanted to update, it's called I've just not been able to. Just after my exams finished, we had a family death and the past month has just been revolved around that, and coming to terms with what has happened. This is the first opportunity I've had to actually update. I hope you can understand.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's a bit short, and slightly filler-y, but there are a few key things in it as well which will be brought to light later on. I'll try and add a chapter in a week, but after that there will be a short hiatus as I'm going on holiday for two weeks. If I can do two then that'll be great, but please understand that this may not be possible. I do mean to finish this story, though it may take a while - I'm ridiculously busy this summer.

Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts!

Thank you,

VickytoriaGreengrass


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